His Pets
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Chris/Phil/Randy. Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for? Please Review!
1. Introduction

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub)

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.

**Warning:** Slash

**Dedication:** This is for LadyDragonsblood. I haven't quite worked up the nerve to try a Chris/Adam story yet, but that day will come! So, until then, here's more Chris for you…

**Part:** 1/? – Introduction

**OOOO**

"I'd like to fuckin' tell that bastard where he can shove his 'best in the world' shit." Randy shifted to make himself more comfortable on the lower half of Phil's body. "I mean, c'mon, _three_ Codebreakers? Who shoved the rod up his ass?"

Gently, Phil worked the tension out of Randy's face. "He's just ticked because he didn't win the title at Over The Limit. I'm sure that he didn't mean to hurt you, Ran. So don't fuss over it too much –,"

Phil was cut off by the not-so-subtle slam of the door to their locker room. The Second City Saint almost jumped out of his skin. While Phil was by no means weak, he was often considered the more submissive when compared to Randy. In fact, there was really no reason for Randy to be considered _submissive_ at all. If it was anyone other than Chris, Randy would most likely kill them for allowing the idea that they _could_ dominate him cross their mind. Slowly, Randy sat forward and touched Phil's shoulder in comfort. Immediately, Phil relaxed. Only Randy knew about Phil's secret love to be touched and caressed. Not even Chris knew about his secret desire to cuddle.

Chris stood on the other side of the room, the door now closed behind him. When he saw the still-startled look in Phil's wide olive eyes, he smirked. Now, Chris was by no means an abusive master. He took excellent care of both of his boys, and both had every chance to leave if they wanted to. But the love between them was mutual. It hadn't been at first, true… but that was a different story. Chris had found them, taken them in, and loved them. That was more than they could say about their last boyfriends. And, most of the time, they all loved the way their life worked. Of course, that was until Chris pulled off an upset that awakened a hurricane of emotion in Randy.

Randy did have the uncanny ability to sound _a lot_ like a snake when he hissed. "Fuck off, Chris. If it weren't for the fact that I most likely have a concussion, I would _so_ walk over there and kick your flashy ass."

"You wound me, Randal." Chris mocked him sarcastically. "But, believe it or not, I'm not here to talk to you. I'm here to talk to the little _slut_."

When Chris' cold blue eyes fell on Phil, the smallest man's eyes widened pathetically. "Me?"

"Did I not tell you to stay away from AJ? Did I not warn you that she's a fuckin' mentally unstable wreck?" In the time it took to say those words, Chris had crossed the distance between them and had taken Phil by the root of his hair. "She's back by the Divas Lover Room, tellin' them stories about how much you _love_ her."

"You don't understand, Chris." Phil tried to defend himself.

"Then _make_ me understand. Give me one reason why I shouldn't end that sorry kid's delusion _now_. Or, better yet," Chris smirked evilly now. "I should let her have you. She's had her hands all over you. You're second hand merchandise now."

Tears started to brew in the ravenette's eyes. "I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't intend to make you mad. Really. Please, don't leave me. I don't even _like_ her. She unnerves me. And I tried to send her away, but she wouldn't listen."

Chris narrowed his cold blue eyes at the small man. "I don't believe you."

Phil wasn't sure what to do. Chris had never been so blatantly cruel before. The only time that he had ever come close was when Phil had left him in the middle of their feud and Chris had almost drunk himself into a coma. When Randy had found him, he had refused the taller man's assistance. All he wanted to do was sit there and die, married to his bottle. 'The way it should be' were his exact words. But now, Phil could tell that Chris wasn't drunk. When the blond man had had even one frothing can of beer, his eyes would haze over and, given the correct circumstances, he would be horny as hell. None of that was applicable now.

When Phil's olive eyes flickered up to Chris, he knew that he had been silent for too much time. Chris had taken his silence as an admission to guilt. The blond reached for his left hand, and when Phil realized what he was after, he shook his head violently and tried to resist. However, tonight Chris was a little bit stronger. He took the thin gold band off of Phil's finger, Phil trying his best to fight back. Then, it was gone. Chris had taken back his sign of ownership. A hole started to form in Phil's chest, one that wouldn't be filled by all of the treasures in the world. He had disappointed his master, and now his master didn't want him anymore…

Before Chris could kick him out of their shared locker room as well, Phil climbed off of the couch and ran. He didn't think that he could suffer another rejection. He rushed out so fast that he didn't see the look of anguish on Chris' face. This hurt him almost as much as it did them, if not more. They were his babies, and he had devoted the last six years of his life to them. He would even go so far as to say that they _were_ his life. He wasn't exactly sure as to what he was to do without them. But this was what _had_ to be done. It's not like he had a choice in the matter. And, at least this way, it was a clean break. But clean breaks hurt worst of all.

Chris reached out to take Randy's wrist, but Randy beat him to it. "Don't touch me! I'm a grown fuckin' man; I can take a damn ring off by myself."

Once Randy had the gold ring off of his finger, which was almost identical to Phil's, he threw it on the ground at Chris' feet. The ultimate show of disrespect. For a minute, Chris just stared at it. It rolled around the floor in small circles, before it fell down on its side with a small trill as the metal vibrated. In that moment, Chris and Randy's eyes met. Chris could read the hurt, confusion, and betrayal that all resided there. Randy wasn't as comfortable with showing his emotions as Phil was, but Chris knew him so well that he could read him like a book. And the Viper was about to come unhinged.

And then, Randy kicked him in the stomach harshly. Chris fell to the floor beside the fallen ring. "That was for Phil."

And, with that, the only two people that Chris had ever really loved, who had loved him in turn, walked out of his life forever…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	2. The Meeting

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub)

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 2/? – The Meeting

**OOOO**

John Laureinitis sat at his desk, a monumental stack of paperwork in front of him. He was working through it rather quickly considering the amount of pain that he claimed to be in. Chris didn't buy that BS at all. But, taking a deep breath, he braced himself for the inevitable and put a smile on his face as he approached his boss' desk. He dropped the two rings that he had taken from his boys earlier. John didn't even look up. Chris was almost thankful for that, because then he couldn't see his compromised emotional state.

"I did what you told me to do." Chris choked out. "Now, you have to hold up your end of the deal. Phil and Randy's contracts are secure."

Finally, John looked up from his paperwork. "Of course. We had a deal, didn't we? And I am _nothing_ if not a man of my word. Their contracts are safe and sound."

"If that's all, then I'll -,"

John cut him off. "Tell me how you did it."

Chris' cold blue eyes widened with disbelief. "What?"

"I want you to tell me about how you broke their hearts. Don't hold back. I want _all_ of the details." John said cruelly. "And if you don't, well… it would be shame if their contracts and paychecks met the paper shredder…"

The roar of the paper shredder underneath the GM's desk filled the silence and tore a hole through Chris' heart. It was his own fault that they were in this situation, after all. The minute those contracts hit the blades, Phil would be brutally and publically stripped of his title, and Randy and Phil would be wished the best of luck in their future endeavors. At least this way, even if they hated him forever, he could still fulfill that desire to see them smile every day. He loved them so much that it almost hurt…

"It's now or never, Chris." John took out two packets and started to dissect them, readying the first collection of sheets for the shredder.

Chris squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to think of the broken looks on their faces. "I… I called Phil a slut and then I yanked the ring off of his hand. I told him he was second-rate and that I deserved better. He ran off in tears and Randy threw his ring at my feet before he ran off after him."

John smiled sadistically. "I wish you could've taken a picture of that last part. The 'Great' CM Punk _in tears_!" His heartless chuckles filled the air, but Chris was not amused.

John had started this cruel 'game' two months ago. The first unfortunate victims had been John Cena, Zack Ryder, and Kane. The first day of Zack's contract, John and Kane had staked their claim on the flamboyant Broski. Zack used to smile a lot more back then. He was bouncy and bubbly, but also surprisingly shy and sensitive when he wanted to be. He balanced the kid in John and the monster in Kane perfectly. It was like he was made for the two masters. But then the GM started to attack Cena, and their 'flawless' life went downhill in a sudden mudslide.

After that, Kane started to make very personal and often violent attacks on Zack Ryder. The worst of which wasn't what landed him in the wheelchair, but when he had been shoved off the side of the ramp. He didn't know the reason behind the attacks, because as far as he knew they weren't scripted. And Kane never explained it to him. Naturally, Zack had assumed that the Big Red Monster didn't love him anymore and had even said so to Kane's face. That was the real reason for Kane's attacks on Randy. It wasn't some idiotic handshake. He needed to vent all of the hurt.

Needless to say, Big Johnny kept Zack's promise rings on display in his office. They were his most prized possessions, a reminder of the 'conquest' that he had achieved so early on. Chris looked down at them now. He kept them in a small, transparent box, which was bolted down to the desk. The first was an onyx band with ruby woven in to look like the stitches on Kane's ring attire. And the second was a red, white, and blue ring comprised of one-third ruby, one-third diamond, and one-third sapphire. Before then, Zack had never taken them off.

"This is the box where you will put Randy and Punk's rings." John motioned to a lock box at the end of the table. When he unlocked it, Chris' eyes widened as millions of dollars in priceless jewels shimmered inside.

"D-Do I have to?" He had had a hard time making it this far. And knowing that his babies' rings would only be sold to the highest bidder didn't make him feel any better.

John chuckled bitterly. "Listen, Jericho. I've broken mightier than you before." John rose to his full height, which was only an inch or two above Chris. "And you don't have to worry about the rings being sold. I wouldn't _dare_ to commit such a travesty."

But Chris could see the evil shimmer in his eyes. "Then what _would _you do with them?"

"Eve, send the men in." John ordered.

Chris barely had time to turn around when every heel in the WWE poured into John's office. It seemed so much smaller with almost twenty men inside. Each man leered at him menacingly, but in truth they only had eyes for the box of rings and the two that had scattered on the table. Chris' eyes widened. He didn't think that John could stoop so low, but apparently he had been mistaken. The bastard obviously believed that, because they were submissive, they would submit to _anyone_. But the GM was sorely mistaken…

John intended to auction off the rings to these men, who obviously wanted a hand at the submissive roster of the WWE. Chris could already see those who had made alliances. Take, for example, Swagger and Ziggler. Apart, they weren't much. But together, they were a fucking _menace_ to society. And Chris knew that they had had their eyes on Zack Ryder for some time. Or Daniel Bryan. He had _had_ his hands on Punk before, but had never been able to make Phil submit. It made Chris sick just to _think_ about it.

"You really think that I'm just going to hand over my babies like they mean nothing to me? I did this to protect them, and they'll still be hurt. This wasn't part of the deal, bastard!" Chris hissed viciously.

"You'd better watch how you talk to me, Jericho." John ordered. "I'm still your boss and I can fire you any time that I want. You'd do well to remember that."

"I'll sue for wrongful termination." Chris fought back.

John actually _smirked_. "I bet you would. But you see, Chris, I have some evidence too. Evidence of a bender that almost killed you. It'll call your credibility into question, at the very least. And, even with the worst jury in the world, your ability to take care of Randy and Phil will be called into question as well."

"It was a bender that _you_ caused!" Chris exclaimed, but to no avail. John continued as if he hadn't heard him.

"When it comes down to it, would you rather have the state take them away and you never see them again, or would you let one of these fine young men _borrow_ them for a few months? I'm sure they'll come back in _almost_ the same condition that they left…"

Chris hated to admit it, but he couldn't do this alone. He needed to talk to the other masters. Until then, he had no choice but to throw the rings into the lock box and walk away…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	3. A Bit of Comfort

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub), Jack *Jake* Swagger/OC/Dolph *Nick* Ziggler, Mark/Hunter (sub), Kane/Zack Ryder (sub)/John Cena

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, but I do own my OCs.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 3/? – A Bit of Comfort

**OOOO**

While female submissives were uncommon, they weren't unheard of. In fact, several of the heels that had collected in the GM's office had female submissives of their own. More often than not, the heels were totally in love with their submissives. Unfortunately, their harsh exterior and holier-than-thou mindset made it difficult for them to receive that love in return. It was a classic case of Beauty and the Beast. And Chris saw this as he was on his way to the hotel room that he used to share with Phil and Randy. At the far end of the hall were Jake and Nick, with Lilly.

Lilly was an unusual submissive. It had been a lot harder for her to transition into the role, but that was understandable, because her father had had the same issue. It had taken _months_ for Mark to finally break down the walls around Hunter's heart. Lilly, however, was still a bit feisty. But Chris knew Nick and Jake well (a little better than he wanted to, actually), and he knew that they fed off of that. And while he didn't like the two heels all that much, he also knew how much Lilly meant to them. However, there was a lot of time where Lilly felt uncared for.

When Jake backed her into the corner of the hallway, Chris was tempted to avert his eyes. The business of the other masters was not _his_ business, and he had a phone call to make before it became too late. But then, Jake removed a box from his pocket. It was a ring box. So, the GM really had sold out. Chris wondered how much Jake and Nick had had to doll out to meet the crazed GM's demands. When he opened the box, an uncomfortable silence settled over the hall. And then Lilly shoved them aside and ran away. Chris went unnoticed.

Chris shook his head. "They should've known better. If they really knew her, then they would've known that she would react like that." He mumbled under his breath.

Chris knew this to be the truth from his own experience. He had tried to introduce Phil into their relationship without offering Randy the reassurance that this did not change his love for the taller submissive. Their first meeting went about as well as could be expected. There had been some hitting, some biting, and some scratching. And, if Chris remembered correctly, a few names had been tossed around carelessly. But, by the end of the day, Phil was lost to blissful unconsciousness in Randy's protective arms.

Chris closed his eyes. What would he ever do to win those two back? And he had to make his move before Bryan got his slimy little hands on Phil, or Wade wrapped his hands around Randy's throat. After he successfully unlocked the door to his room, he walked inside and threw his stuff down on the floor carelessly. Immediately, he noticed the lack of Phil and Randy's stuff. They must've come before him and moved it to another room. Chris tried to let the pain roll off of his shoulders as he took out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"_Hello?"_ A tired voice answered. The voice was strained, as if the owner was at the very end of their patience, but Chris knew that that would change once he heard what he had to say.

"Kane? It's Chris. Listen, I know that the GM came and threatened Zack's job if you and Cena didn't break your bonds with him -," Chris started.

"_How the hell did you find out about that?"_ Kane hissed viciously, suddenly wide awake.

Chris frowned. "The bastard threatened Randy and Phil too. But there's more to it." Chris said. "He's taking the rings and selling them to turn a profit. He knows that the subs would _kill_ to have them back. He knows it all."

He heard Kane falter on the other end of the line. Finally, the Big Red Monster asked, "_Did he sell Zack's rings?"_

"Yeah." Chris answered honestly, almost afraid of Kane's reaction.

"_To whom?"_

Chris looked back toward the door, like he could see Swagger and Ziggler through the door. "He sold them to Nick and Jake. They tried to show them to Lilly, but she rejected the idea rather forcefully."

Once more, Kane was silent. "_I'll have a talk with my dear brother-in-law."_ Chris could hear the sarcasm in Kane's voice as he talked about Hunter. _"Try and contact the other masters. And keep an eye on those rings. We don't know how many he has, or whom he'll sell them to."_

"I can do that." Chris assured. Kane made an affirmative noise, before he ended the call.

Chris tossed his I-Phone onto the bed and fell down beside it. How could his life deteriorate so much in the course of twenty-four hours? Right now, he should have been celebrating the fact that Phil had retained his WWE championship against that bastard Bryan Danielson. It made him sick to think that that little punk had had his hands all over Chris' baby. Could he even call him _his_ anymore? No! He couldn't think like that. If he had to spend the rest of his life making it up to both of them, he would. He loved them. They were his life. And that was that.

**OOOO**

"I am so sorry, Mark. But… I can't do this anymore. I have to… I have to… I just _can't_. Don't… don't make me tell you the reason. Just take this back. I can't wear it anymore." Hunter slid the brand into Mark's hand.

Mark chuckled lowly as he looked down at the small, onyx band. It was a defense mechanism of sorts. "I honestly believed that you were the one man who wouldn't use my heart as target practice. Guess I was wrong."

"Don't be like that, Mark!" Hunter tried to defend himself. "You don't understand!"

"Oh, I understand full well. John Laureinitis comes to the WWE, and all of a sudden you're _whipped_. What? Do you want to be his _bitch_ now?" Mark hissed viciously. His hand formed a fist around the band and trembled at his side.

"I… I… I don't… I love _you_, Mark!" Hunter forced out.

"Really?" Mark seemed shocked. "You have a funny way of showin' it."

Hunter shook his head. "I knew you would never understand. I'm doing what's best for my company, and that's officially releasing you – and anyone else who disagrees with my motives – from their contract."

Mark tilted his head to the side slowly. Now _that_ was a low blow. Hunter knew that Mark had devoted his entire life to the WWE, and he loved it almost as much as he loved his family. And now both had violently been ripped out from under him. "Go ahead. This place has become a dump ever since John -,"

Hunter cut him off, a wild look in his eyes. "You will not talk about John Laureinitis like that! He's a wonderful man who has done wonders for this company. You should be on your knees _thanking_ him!"

Mark looked down at his submissive menacingly. "I don't get down on my knees for _anyone_."

For a moment, Hunter and Mark locked eyes. And then, as if he believed that Mark didn't think that he would do it, he lifted his master's contract in the air and tore it in half. It was like it had never even existed. For the most part, Mark managed to remain straight-faced throughout it all. Shreds of official terms, clauses holding possible title shots, the official record of his WrestleMania streak, and everything else that he had accomplished in his two decades in the WWE were destroyed. And none of his miraculous feats mattered anymore.

Hunter was breathing heavily, astonished that he had actually had the guts to follow through with John Laureinitis' orders. It was like snow had come in and covered his navy blue carpet. Now, he understood that John technically had no power over him. Hunter was John's boss after all. He had the power to make or break the man, and he would have the full support of the Board of Directors as he did so. But not only had John threatened Mark, but he had also threatened the welfare of their daughter, Lilly. And that was unacceptable.

But then, Mark did the unthinkable. He threw the ring down onto the ground and stomped on it with the heel of his boot. A loud _crack_ filled the room as the band broke in half. Fine blue dust from the gems which had been marbled into the onyx mixed into his carpet. Mark slid the toe of his boot back and forth into the area until it seemed like the band had become one with the carpet. And then, kicking what little remained of his brand at Hunter, Mark walked out. Once he was out of the room, Hunter fell down to his knees and finally allowed the tears to fall.

**OOOO**

When Randy was finally able to locate Phil, he found the Second City Saint in bed with The Broski, Zack Ryder. Their bodies were tangled together in a way that was sexually appealing to an onlooker, but had no actual sexual meaning. Zack had his long arms around the tattooed man's bare chest, and he was pulling him in so that the ravenette's head rested on Zack's own chest. Their legs were mixed together at the bottom of the bed, and with every breath, there was a gentle sigh that was always in unison.

Randy knew that the two were good friends. Hell, anyone that saw the millions of photos that Phil posts of him on Twitter would think that they were in love. But, truthfully, Phil just loved to watch the copper-haired man sleep. And Randy really couldn't blame him. The mischievous Long Island native really was adorable when he relaxed. So, he allowed Phil to have his moment of comfort. After what he had been through earlier, he deserved it. Closing the door softly behind him, he walked down the hall to try and find Cena's room.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Yes, it's true. Punk uploaded a picture of Zack Ryder sleeping on their tour bus to his Twitter account. He really is totally adorable when he's asleep! Not that he isn't when he's awake, but still…

Anyway, Please Review!


	4. Everybody Talks

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub)

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, but I do own my OCs.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 4/? – Everybody Talks

**OOOO**

It was time to film SmackDown. Chris had received word that another brand had been sold, but he didn't know the exact details. So, the masters had decided to have an informal conference to discuss the severity of the situation and what could be done to remedy the drastic measures that had already been taken. The conference would be held after SmackDown back at the hotel. Until then, the entire roster was on red-alert to watch out for unusual behavior. Chris had to scoff at that. What was considered 'unusual behavior' after all of this?

Chris walked down the halls in search of his locker room. It was about an hour before the show was set to start, but he had always liked to arrive early. It was unusual to have a locker room all to himself. When he was still with Phil and Randy, the two had liked to stretch out and crowd in the other's personal space. Between them, the word 'boundaries' didn't exist. And, on several occasions, Chris had walked in on them in a sexual situation. It wasn't unusual for two submissives to have sex, because there were various levels of submissiveness.

Once Chris located his locker room, he entered inside and a wide smile broke out on his face. The roses that he had requested sat on the coffee table in a tall, crystalline vase that drank in the sun. They were beautiful, and they reminded him of Phil. In fact, that was the very reason that he had requested them. Roses were his baby's favorite flower. Slowly, he removed a ribbon from his jeans pocket, which was decorated in the same fashion that his brand had been. He tied it around the mouth of the vase and admired his handiwork.

"What if he doesn't want them because they have my brand on them?" Chris wondered aloud. He didn't want Phil to mutilate the defenseless flowers because he was mad at Chris. "What if he hates them?"

Slowly, Chris twirled the crystalline vase around so that he could see it from all sides. The flowers truly were beautiful. The roses were white with crimson speckles marbled in. Maybe it was how wonderfully unique they were that drew Chris' attention. He had first noticed them when they were in the Windy City for Extreme Rules – when life was still perfect. It was then that he had first contacted Hunter to have some sent to his locker room. It must've slipped the COO's mind until now.

Chris' frown did not falter. "I won't know unless I try. I need to take this chance. If I don't, I could lose him forever. And this time it _would_ be my fault…"

Finally, Chris decided to send them. After all, the situation couldn't become much worse. He took the vase and handed it off to one of the stagehands, with specific instructions to hand it directly to Phil. If he couldn't find Phil, then he wasn't to give them to anyone else. He wasn't even allowed to leave them in his locker room so that they would be there when Phil finally arrived. The stagehand nodded like he understood, and then he walked off. And Chris started to ready himself for his match.

**OOOO**

"Punk!" The Second City Savior turned around, only to find a slightly breathless stagehand motioning violently for him to slow down. "I was told to hand these over to you."

Phil looked down at the vase filled with freshly cut roses. "Who told you to do that?"

The smaller man shook his head. "I'm not allowed to say. All I was told was that I was to hand these _directly_ to you. No-one else was to see them or touch them."

"I see." Phil nodded slowly. He knew of only one man who would be so explicit in his directions over something as foolish as flowers. "Thanks. Be sure to tell him that I received them in excellent condition."

"Of course, Punk." The smaller man nodded, before he scurried off to do as he was told.

Phil started to walk toward his locker room. He was half tempted to throw the roses into the trash can located just outside the door, but he was interrupted by The Broski, Zack Ryder. Zack had obviously seen better days. He was breathless and coated in a fine sheen of sweat, and he wasn't even in his ring attire yet. But one look in his eyes told Phil that the story involved Kane and Cena. Phil inclined his head toward the door to his locker room and both walked inside. The Second City Saint closed and locked the door behind him.

"Who sent you those?" Zack asked softly, before he nodded in the direction of the roses.

"Who do you think?" Phil shot back sarcastically.

Zack nodded. He watched as Phil took out a can of caffeine-free Pepsi and cracked the tab. Brown foam sprayed over the metal lid, before he took a small sip. "What do you plan to do with them?"

Phil put the can down and ran a hand over the soft petals. And then, a sinister smirk claimed his features as he took hold of the petals and yanked them off of the stem brutally. "This."

The Second City Saint took the flowers out of the vase, dumped the water out in the nearby sink, and filled the vase with the rest of the Pepsi from his can. He then stuffed the roses back into the vase and watched how quickly they wilted. Petals fell down all over the table, decorating it in red and white, with the occasional unsightly brown stain. He stuffed the dead petals into the Pepsi water and watched as they soaked in the brown color. It almost made him smile. But he restrained himself before he crossed _that_ line.

That was when his eyes fell on the brand. Several possibilities for the fate of that lone ribbon crossed his mind. He could burn it. It would be _way_ too satisfying to watch it go up in smoke and flames. So, instead, he simply took a pair of scissors and started to shred it. The ribbon frayed and bits fell to the floor. The smirk never left Phil's face. This would teach that bastard to call him a slut! Beneath all of the malice, Phil was understandably hurt. However, he had always been one to lash out rather than talk a situation out.

"Now that that's taken care of," Phil turned to Zack with a smile that unsettled him. "What's the matter with you? You look like someone ran over your kitten."

Zack looked down at the floor. "I overheard Kane and John talkin' about a new submissive. It hasn't even been two months, and they already have a replacement for me."

"I don't even know what to say to that, dude." Phil shook his head. "I know how much they love you."

"_Loved_ me." Zack corrected sadly. "They love someone else now."

"Do you know what I saw, which will both shock and disturb you at the same time?" Phil asked. Zack shook his head. "I saw Kane _cry_ after your match at Over The Limit."

"W-What?" Zack choked out. Kane _never_ cried. No matter what.

"You didn't hear?" Phil sounded shocked. "Kane was so upset after the match that he put his fist through the wall in his locker room. It was all bloody and swollen, but he wouldn't let anyone touch it."

Zack shook his head. "I never heard about that. I left shortly after the match, because I really didn't want to be around for the joke John Laureinitis to come out and pretend that People Power isn't his assed-up way of doing whatever he wants."

Phil nodded. "That's totally understandable. Hell, if I didn't have a match with Bryan, I wouldn't have stuck around either. It's like a dark cloud is looming over this place now."

Just then, Phil received a text. He excused himself from his conversation with Zack for a moment, before he pulled his I-Phone out of his jean shorts and scrolled down to the button for 'new text messages'. He had five, but four of them where from Chris. Without a thought, he deleted them. However, it was the last one which captured his attention. It was from an unknown number, which made him a little uneasy. After all, this _was_ his work phone and only WWE executives and his fellow wrestlers had the number. Then, he checked the text.

_Meet me out by the front entrance to the stadium in fifteen minutes. If you know what's good for you, you won't make me wait._

Phil frowned, but didn't try to respond to the text. Instead, he took the vase of mutilated flowers and handed them to Zack. If he could've, the Broski would've held them out on a ten-foot pole. Phil quickly dressed for his match later on, his eyes downcast as he ruminated on that text. What could it mean? Who was it from? Was this some kind of sick joke from Chris? Once he was in his ring attire, he pulled his 'Best in the World' t-shirt over his head and made his way toward the door.

"Could you do me a favor and deliver those Chris for me? I have to do somethin'." Phil said, before he unlocked the door and started out into the hall.

"Yeah. Sure." Zack said, even if no-one was around to hear it.

**OOOO**

"Chris, we found out who purchased the brand." John said. The normally bubbly brunette's face was serious as he turned this information over to Chris. "It was Bryan. But that's not the worst of it. Henry and Tensai are in on it too. Bryan doesn't want to take a chance this time."

Chris' eyes widened. "That fucking bastard! Where is he? He's supposed to be here tonight! Where the fuck is his locker room?" Chris hissed. "I'll tear him to shreds before he can even lay a hand on my baby."

"It's a little late for that." John said softly. "We can't rush into this, Chris. There's still a lot that we don't know."

"Like what?" Chris hissed. His blood boiled in his veins.

"We both know that Brock Lesnar has anger-management issues, but not to the extent that the GM is trying to sell. But the GM didn't threaten to fire Tyson, he threatened to _hurt_ him." John said lowly.

Chris frowned. "Was that the reason that Tyson was put in that match with the man who was kicked off of the rugby team for being 'too aggressive'? I can't even remember the bastard's name."

"Yeah." John nodded. "Brock didn't want to attack Hunter, so the GM threatened to hurt Tyson. Brock didn't believe him, and now Tyson's hurt. Do you want that to happen to Phil?"

"No." Chris resigned himself to the truth.

"We need to talk about this, Chris. Now." Cena said, his face serious.

"Why don't you come inside? Laureinitis has eyes and ears all over the arena."

Zack Ryder rounded the corner in time to see John lean in and whisper something in Chris' ear, their bodies pressed together. His heart became a block of ice in his chest. Maybe it wasn't another submissive they were after, but another master? After all, there were two different ranks of master: submissive and dominant. A dominant master had never been topped before, but a submissive master could top from the bottom. Maybe John wanted someone who could dominate him… the vase fell out of Zack's hand, and he ran…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	5. Punk's New Owner

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub)

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, but I do own my OCs.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 5/? – Punk's New Owner

**OOOO**

Phil had done exactly what the text had said. It was a little chilly outside, so he was thankful that he had his old, beaten black and white hoodie on. His mind had started to wander as he tried to think of who could have sent that text, when a cold hand settled on his shoulder and clamped down almost to the point where it could be considered painful. Pain shot down his arm when thick fingers slid under his clavicle and continued the torture. He shot back with an elbow, but he couldn't see his attacker, so the counter-offensive was useless.

A dark chuckle came from his attacker, and Phil's blood ran cold. He started to move violently, because he _knew_ that voice. The chuckle only increased. "Little Philly, did you really think that you could be rid of me so easily?"

Phil couldn't answer. Terror had caused his throat to close.

Suddenly, the man released him. "What is this, now? The Voice of the Voiceless, silenced? It can't be true!" And then, all sarcasm left him. "I believe I have an item that was once in your possession."

When the man held out his brand, Phil suddenly regained his ability to talk. He tried to snatch it out of the man's hands, but for once, the shorter man was just a little bit faster. "Chris would have never sold that to you!"

The man's familiar self-satisfied smirk settled over his face. "You'd be amazed at what Chris would do for money."

A haze caused Phil's beautiful olive eyes to film over. "What… what can I do to make you give it back to me?"

"Oh, it's nothing really." The man's sarcastic tone returned. "Just promise to be mine. And this time, the _right_ way." He slid a keycard into Phil's hand. "I expect you to be there directly after SmackDown, naked and spread out on the bed."

Why would Chris do this to him? Why would Chris sell him back to that monster? Phil trembled as he extended his hands out toward the man, who dropped the ring carelessly. Hesitating only a moment, Phil quickly reached out to catch it before it could touch the ground. That would be the ultimate show of disrespect. Though whether he was more afraid to disrespect Chris or this man, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that a hole in his heart was filled the moment that that brand was back on his hand.

He heard the man chuckle as he lifted one meaty had to ruffle Phil's hair, before he walked off to prepare for his match. Phil was at a loss. Should he follow through with the deal he had made? There was no question that the man would hunt him down and most likely hurt him worse then he planned to do before should he run. He had no other choice but to play the hand that was dealt to him. Fear made it difficult for him to breath as he walked back toward his locker room, defeated.

**OOOO**

Randy found Cody and Ted outside of the arena, sharing what looked to be a blanket between them as they watched a video on Cody's I-Phone. Quickly, Randy noticed that they were without their rings as well. His heart went out to the two young boys, because he knew what they had come from (much the same as what he had come from) and he knew that they loved Paul truly and deeply. Randy wasn't sure whether or not they would be able to handle the idea of that love not being returned. Slowly, Randy sat down on the curb beside his boys.

"Cody. Teddy." He called to them. Slowly, they turned to face him. He could see the brokenness in their eyes so clearly and it made his heart break. "What happened?"

"You haven't heard?" Randy shook his head. "Paul sold out to John Laureinitis. He's the biggest asshole in the WWE now. He's already hurt Alex, Santino, Zack, Brodus, Ronnie, and Kofi. He left us in the dust when he was re-hired."

"That seems rather uncharacteristic of Show." Randy muttered sympathetically.

Cody shook his head. "He said that no-one cared that he was fired. He's mad that no-one stood up for him."

"He forgets that _we_ were the ones that comforted him after the show." Ted ranted. "_We_ were the ones who offered to tear Johnny No Voice a new one. And yet, we were the first people he hurt."

"I wish I could say that he didn't mean it, but…" Randy trailed off.

"Oh, we know. Trust me, we know." Cody said sadly. "He meant every damn word that came out of his mouth."

"And everything that he didn't say, that he _wanted _to say… we could see it in his eyes." Ted finished for him.

Randy was truly stunned speechless. He was caught between the need to comfort his boys and the desire to go and murder Paul. Fortunately, the need to comfort his boys won out. The last thing that he needed at the moment was to worry Phil by being dragged down to the police department for attempted murder… He reached out and turned off the video on Cody's I-Phone, before he wrapped a muscular arm around both of the smaller men and brought them in. Randy had never been good with words, but for him, actions spoke louder.

All of a sudden, Cody noticed that Randy didn't have his brand on either. "Randy, what happened? Where's your brand?"

Randy shook his head. "That little bastard Chris Jericho ended it. He broke Phil's heart, calling him a slut and then violently yanking his ring off. I haven't been able to talk to Phil since."

"He took your rings back, just like Paul did with us?" Ted asked uncertainly.

"Yeah." Randy affirmed. "He did."

They all fell into a comfortable silence, just being near each other enough to offer them a little bit of comfort. Randy was worried about Phil, but he knew that he would find him after the show was over and they could talk then. He just couldn't stand to see Phil upset like that. And after that, he would have a little talk with Paul about the way that he treated his boys. Until then, he was content to just hold them. None of them noticed the unwavering stares of two individuals on the other side of the lot, both twirling newly bought brands in their hands.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	6. Don't Cry

**Title:** His Pets

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Chris Jericho/Randy Orton (sub)/CM Punk (sub)

**Summary:** Based off of Raw 5-21-12. Since Chris is the best in the world at all that he does, what does he need Phil and Randy for?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, but I do own my OCs.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 6/? – Don't Cry

**OOOO**

Mark, Glen, John, Paul, Jeff, Jay, Matt, Bret, and Chris sat around the table in the abandoned hotel restaurant. The tension that surrounded the men could easily be cut with a knife. Each man had been forced to terminate their role as Master and hand over their brands to John Laureinitis. It was already known that Jake and Nick had purchased Zack's brand and it had taken the better half of an hour to talk Glen down from a vicious, bloody murder. Nobody touched his boy. That was a known fact between the Masters.

However, there was still news to be shared. John had recently received word that two more brands had been sold, the ones that marked Cody and Ted. What was unusual about this was the fact that each had been sold to a different owner. Cody and Ted had always been one deal. Paul had taken them in as such and now they were inseparable. John worried what it would do to them if they were separated at such a late stage in this cruel, horrific game. He had also received word that Phil's brand had been sold to Daniel Bryan.

"Chris." John turned to face him. From the way that Chris tensed, it was obvious that he knew that this had to do with one of his boys. "Phil's brand has been sold. I just found out after the show."

Chris' cold blue eyes widened. He let out a low, primal hiss. "Who was it sold to?"

"Daniel Bryan." John didn't meet Chris' eyes, but he knew that there was a painful fire in the blue depths.

"When did you intend to tell me this, John? Did you mean to wait until he could have already claimed Phil?" Chris was wild with fear and anger. What if he seriously hurt Phil? "You _know_ what he did to Phil before."

John nodded. "Yes, Chris. We are all well aware of the damage that many of the subs endured before they came to us. Phil was not the only one who was abused, neglected, and hurt."

"Why would you let it continue, then?" Chris was seeing red and it killed him that he couldn't help his baby.

"We have no other choice." John said matter-of-factly. "If John Laureinitis finds out that we're onto him, it could mean a lot more trouble for the subs then just a slap on the wrist and a pink slip. He could seriously hurt them."

Chris fell silent at that. He knew that it was the truth, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it. John Laureinitis was a powerful man who had the entire company in the palm of his hand. Hell, he had even convinced Vince McMahon that he was the best man for the job. But to pull this kind of low-down shit was just taking the whole situation to a whole new level. He had crossed that invisible line. And now, Chris wasn't afraid of the repercussions. He would tear that bastard a new one.

"Paul, I have some bad news for you as well." John said. He still wasn't on the best of terms with The Giant. Ever since he had interfered in his match with John Laureinitis, there was a new hostility between the old friends.

"What?" Paul growled. He sat as far away from Cena as he could, with one Brother of Destruction on either side. "Well, what is it, Cena? Give me a damn answer!"

"Cody and Ted's brands have been sold as well. Laureinitis intends to separate them." John explained.

"He can't do that!" Paul exclaimed. "They've never been apart for more than a few hours!"

John shook his head and narrowed his blue eyes at Paul. "Well, he can and he already has. How does it feel to know that you sold out to the man who is going to cost you the two loves of your life?"

Paul narrowed his blue eyes at John as well. "You don't know _anything_ about this. Don't pretend like you do." And then, he because oddly quiet. "Who were the brands sold to?"

"There is some speculation about Curt and Tyler, but nobody can say for certain." John said.

This was any Master's worst nightmare come to life. Their subs were in trouble, most likely crying for them, and they couldn't do a damn thing about it. Paul was probably the worst off. The man that he had trusted with his career now took his beloved pets away from him. It must be a hard pill to swallow. But then, he also had almost the entire group of Master's pissed at him. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had sold-out to the GM, all of the subs would be back with their Master's and they wouldn't have had a reason to _call_ this meeting.

But it really wasn't fair to say that one was more saddened by this then another. Each man had lost his submissives and that alone was a traumatic experience. Chris leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. A matter that had started out so small had been blown so, _so_ out of proportion. He wasn't even sure what to make of it anymore. And if they did make it to the other side, would the subs ever be able to trust them again? Would they understand that they did this to protect them?

**OOOO**

"Aww, don't cry." Daniel hovered over Phil's body. He watched as the almost-naked submissive tried to obey the order, but found himself unable to control the tears. "I said _don't cry_!"

Phil let out a startled shout when Daniel's hand collided harshly with the side of his ribs. They were still bruised from his match and Daniel was well-aware of that. Daniel smirked when Phil immediately fell silent and looked at him with wet, tired olive eyes. Phil was absolutely terrified. He knew what Daniel was capable of and he didn't want to repeat it. Chris had saved him from this once before, but now; he knew that Chris didn't want him anymore and that there was no way out of this. It left his stomach in a painful knot.

Daniel then revealed a pair of steel handcuffs and hooked them around Phil's wrists. Phil mewled and kicked out with his feet, but he had lost almost all of his resolve to fight back. Chris didn't want him anymore, so what was the point? And even if Daniel hurt him, at least he loved him. He loved him in a sick, twisted way that wasn't actually love. But Phil didn't know any better. He never had. At least, not until Chris had come into his life. It was just a never-ending cycle that would end in pain…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	7. Randy's New Owner

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash

* * *

The next day, Phil hurriedly tucked all of his stuff into his suitcase. Daniel was still in the shower and the smaller man had instructed him to make sure that they were ready to leave the hotel before he was done in the bathroom. Phil's body was still stiff from their little tryst earlier. It wasn't really the night before, because it had been at 4:30 AM. Each time that Phil closed his eyes, all he could see was Daniel. That terrified him.

The shower turned off and Phil only moved faster. He didn't want to be punished for insubordination to his master. It still hurt to think about Daniel as his master. Why would Chris abandon him so easily? Didn't Chris care about him at all? No, he couldn't think about that. He would always treasure the time that he spent with Chris, but that was the past. Daniel was his future. He would have to learn to accept that.

Daniel came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. The thin blond hair on his head was wet and the tiny droplets of water reflected the light like a tiny rainbow. "Have you packed all of our stuff, Phil?"

"Yes, Master." Phil affirmed softly. "All of your clothes and in-ring attire has been folded and put into your suitcase. Did I do well, Master?"

Daniel patted Phil's head softly. "Yes, Phil. You did very well. Now, carry all of it down to the car."

Phil nodded. Slowly, he started to stack all of the suitcases into his arms. They were a little heavy, but he didn't have time to worry about that. "Of course, Master."

Daniel watched him for a few minutes, before he realized that Phil hadn't left him any clothes to change into. "Phil." He started darkly. "Where the hell is the outfit that I picked out for today?"

"I'm sorry, Master." Phil cursed beneath his breath. He set all of the suitcases down and started to fly through them to find what he wanted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Just shut the hell up and find the fucking outfit!" Daniel screamed. Phil flinched and dropped the outfit in his hands.

Finally, Phil located the outfit that Daniel wanted. Daniel smiled at him warmly and apologized for how rude he had been, but Phil knew that all of it was a complete lie. Phil quickly tucked all of the stuff back into the suitcases and balanced them back into his arms. Without another word between the two of them, he walked out of the hotel room and into the nearest elevator. When the doors closed behind him, a rush of relief washed over him.

"It'll be okay, it'll be okay. I shouldn't be so worried. Daniel wouldn't hurt me. He wouldn't dare." Phil mumbled. But even as he said that, the pain in his back flared with every movement.

The elevator doors opened. Phil lifted all of the suitcases and walked out, making sure to drop his key off at the front desk. He wasn't sure where Daniel had parked the car, he had been way too out of it to realize much of anything the night before, so he had to use the automatic start button to locate his car. He was finally able to locate the car out in the back of the lot. Phil rolled his eyes. Sadly, that didn't make the trek to the car any shorter.

Just as he made it to the car, Daniel came around the back and clapped him on the shoulder. Phil's heart leapt into his stomach and there may have been a few seconds when it stopped completely. Daniel yanked the keys out of his hand and Phil looked down. Stuffing the suitcases into the car, he shut the door and came around to the passenger side. He kept his eyes lowered as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I've arranged for you to share a locker room with me at the new arena. You will come back to the locker room immediately after your match. Do you understand?" Daniel asked. It wasn't really a question.

Phil nodded slowly. He was afraid to look at Daniel and knew that he couldn't do so without permission. "Yes, Master. I will come back to the locker room directly after my match."

"And I want you to keep your distance from Jericho." Daniel offered as well.

Phil continued to nod. "I won't even look at him. I swear it."

Daniel smiled at him condescendingly. "Good boy."

* * *

"Hunter, I need to have a word with you. This is important." Chris said. He didn't even bother to knock on the man's door. If it was important, he knew that Hunter's door was always open.

Hunter worked away on his computer. His fingers flew over the keys so fast that they were a blur to Chris's eyes and so hard that he was sure that each movement must hurt. "What's the matter, Chris? I'm kind of busy."

"This is about Johnny No Voice, better known as the GM of SmackDown and Raw." Chris stated.

Hunter closed his laptop and put it aside. He folded his hands in front of him. "What's the matter?"

"He thinks that he has this right to come into relationships and break them apart. He's stolen brands from the masters and sold them to abusive former-masters." Chris confessed.

"I'm not sure what I can offer you, Chris. If you really have a problem with the GM, then you should take it up with Vince. I no longer have the jurisdiction to fire him." Hunter said.

Chris frowned. "Why would you not had the jurisdiction to fire him? What happened?"

Hunter leaned back into his chair. "You don't understand. When I went to fire him, John went to the Board of Directors and petitioned the decision. I don't have the ability to fire him. But John Cena does."

"You mean that John Cena _did_ have the ability to fire him. He was in the match with him and Show interfered. We all know how that one turned out." Chris said exasperatedly.

"No." Hunter shook his head. "I received notice from the Board of Directors about this month's pay-per-view."

Hunter went on to tell him that Vince intended to do a performance review of John Laureinitis in two weeks, where he would make the first attempt to fire him. In the case of some sort of incident where he was unable to fire John Laureinitis, then he would be ringside at No Way Out for a match between John Cena and Show in a steel cage. The winner would decide whether Laureinitis would be fired or not.

Chris felt a rush of relief wash over him. If he told Vince about all that Laureinitis had done, then he would certainly be able to reverse the possession of the pets from the abusive masters. Hunter rubbed a hand over his face. Chris looked at him oddly. Chris was confused. He didn't see Hunter's brand either. Could Laureinitis have taken Mark's master status away from him as well? Hunter was John's boss, so that didn't make sense.

Chris leaned back in his chair. Thinking about that, it made him worried about Phil and Randy. He hadn't heard from Randy since Randy had thrown his fit and taken off his ring. He hadn't heard from Phil either, but he had seen him. Daniel led the poor boy around like he was a lost puppy. It always made Chris' stomach turn to see the lost look on Phil's face, but he turned homicidal when he saw the fear shimmer in Phil's olive eyes.

"Thank you for your time, Hunter. I really hope this this works out with the deal at No Way Out." Chris said. He rose out of the chair and walked out the door.

He barely even heard what Hunter said next. "I hope so too. I really do."

* * *

Randy walked down the halls of the arena, a look of total seriousness on his face. He wasn't really focused on the match that he had next, even though one could never be too prepared to head into a match with Mark Henry. That was, of course, until a hand secured around his wrist and pulled him into a secluded little area between large stacks of boxes. Randy blinked, still in a state of absolute shock.

Randy's eyes widened. The man had his brand in his hand, the same brand that he had thrown at Chris several weeks before. A cold wash of fear went over him. The man spoke to him lowly in a thick British accent. He only knew one man with an accent as heavy as that, but he had been sure that he had been out for a few more weeks on injury. Randy knew who it was, even in the darkness. The man before him was Wade Barrett.


	8. The Offer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub

* * *

Randy struck Wade on the cheek. Wade only chuckled. A dark, twisted sneer took over his face. "Is that any way to treat your new Master, Randy? I should think not."

"You're _not_ my Master, Chris is." But then, all of the color drained out of Randy's face. "Chris would _never_ sell my brand to someone like you. You're a monster, Wade."

Wade continued to stare at Randy as if the taller man didn't have a clue. "I don't think you understand, love. You were the one who walked out on Chris, not the other way around. He can do whatever the hell he pleases with your brand."

"Like sell it to you?" Randy asked, his own sneer firmly on his face.

Wade nodded. "Like sell it to me."

"I don't trust you, Wade. You're a slimy character with no consideration for others." Randy shot back at him.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Wade said, proud of his somewhat dastardly ways. "But, I do have to say, whoever taught you your manners did a piss-poor job."

"Don't talk to me like you think that you know me." Randy tossed back, disgusted with his new Master.

"Oh, but I _do_ know you Randal. I know every last inch of you. And if you think that that has changed because some new Master came into your life… well, you're sadly mistaken." Wade purred.

"I _hate_ you." Randy said childishly. It was all he could come up with at the moment.

Wade patted his head condescendingly. "I love you too, my pet. Now, be a good boy and put your brand on."

Randy hesitated. He didn't want to be marked as Wade's. That life had been hell for him and it had been extremely difficult for him to learn to put it behind him. Wade made him think that he deserved to be beaten, neglected, and denigrated. _That_ was the kind of master that he was. And to think that he would stand there and destroy all that Chris had done for him in the time that they had been together… well, that didn't sit well with Randy.

However, that brand… there was something about it that called to Randy. It was the natural submissive in him, just like everyone else that had lost their Master's. They had a need to be claimed, a need to be loved. If that was taken away from them, then it was like a ticking time-bomb of self-destruction. It was sad, but it was the truth. A submissive would immediately cling to the first Master that showed interest in them, harmful or otherwise.

Eventually, Randy relented. What choice did he have? He held his hand out and allowed Wade to slip the ring onto his finger, effectively marking him as Wade's. But it wasn't official. Not yet. Wade smirked at him and watched as Randy shifted nervously. It didn't suit the brunette, but it _did_ make him look awfully adorable. Wade patted his sheered head and watched as Randy narrowed his eyes, but didn't move to retaliate.

"Good boy. It looks like you've already started to learn. Maybe this won't be as difficult as I originally thought." Wade said. "After the show, I want you on our bed, naked. I'll show you who your _real_ master is, and has always been."

Randy looked down at the floor and sighed. "Yes, Master."

* * *

Phil had made the mistake of speaking out against John Laureinitis on Raw and received a two-on-one handicapped match as punishment. Originally, it was only supposed to be a one-on-one match with Tensai, but it seemed as if his insubordination had rubbed his Master the wrong way too. It was the sort of public humiliation that Daniel was famous for while they were together. It was the only way that he would learn, Daniel insisted.

"I'm sorry, Master." Phil mumbled when they arrived back at their locker room. Daniel closed and locked the door behind him, before he walked forward and slapped Phil on the cheek.

"You don't _ever_ speak out of line like that again, do you understand me? That was uncalled for! You're only making an embarrassment of yourself, and therefore, me!" Daniel hissed ruthlessly.

"He insulted my talent…" Phil whispered, but when Daniel turned to him, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed with anger, he knew that Daniel had heard every last word out of his mouth.

"You have no talent!" Daniel screamed in his face.

Phil flinched back, momentarily stunned by his master's hostility. "You little fucker. You're the one with no talent. And when I beat your ass at the pay-per-view -,"

"Correction, when I beat _you_ at the pay-per-view." Daniel said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"You want to make a bet?" Phil asked. Daniel raised an eyebrow, interested in the offer. "If I win at the pay-per-view, your title as my master becomes null and void."

Daniel's eye twitched. "I think that you have made it abundantly clear that you don't want to be mine. Now, I want you to tell me what's in it for me."

"If you win, then I'll be your submissive without a complaint. I'll finally submit to you the way that you've always wanted me to." Phil told him. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds like you're too confident in your abilities." Daniel said. "But I'll take that bet."

Little did either realize how much of a prominent figure AJ would become in their near future. That little guest referee would decide both of their fates in the future, but which way would she lean? Did she favor Phil, who only wanted what was best for her and told her how he honestly felt? Or did she want Daniel Bryan, the one who had verbally abused her and treated her like shit, only to turn around and welcome her back with open arms?

Quickly, Phil changed into his street clothes and stuffed his ring attire into his gym bag. Daniel placed a hand on the small of his back as he led him out of the locker room, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He was confident in his abilities to beat Phil in the middle of the ring. And if he didn't, he _was_ a 'man of his word'. He would hand Phil back over to Chris… that was, if he still wanted him.

* * *

Chris rushed around back and located John Cena's body. Cena was stretched out on the floor, knocked out from one hit from the WMD by Show. Chris shook his head as he knelt down beside the Cenation Hero. If this was the way that Show showed them that he was upset about the fact that Laureinitis had taken his two submissives, then he had a lousy way of showing it. It was sad, but it was the truth.

Slowly, Chris reached out and shook the bigger man's shoulder. John moaned softly and rolled over onto his side to try and avoid the harsh treatment, but he couldn't avoid Chris forever. Finally, he growled softly and opened his eyes. When they settled on Chris, he blinked several times and sat up quickly. He had a nice, bloody spot on the back of his head and he was severely dazed.

"What… what happened?" John mumbled. He looked like he was about to be sick, so Chris aimed him away from himself.

"John, you have to pull yourself together. Vince McMahon is giving you another chance to get rid of Johnny No Voice. You just have to pull yourself together and do it." Chris said. "For Zack."

That seemed to capture John's attention. "For Zack?"

"For all of the submissives." Chris said firmly. "They need you to save them. You're the only one who can."

John nodded slowly, before he let his eyes fall closed once more. "Okay."


	9. Randy and Phil

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub, etc.

* * *

Randy rolled off of the bed, a look of distress on his face as white-hot pain shot down his back and pooled at the base of his spine. He felt sick to his stomach and the room span in manic circles around him. He couldn't believe that he had let Wade abuse him like that. Hell, he couldn't believe that Chris had sold his brand to Wade so easily and had _allowed_ Wade to abuse him like that. In the end, this was Chris' fault. Or, at least, that was what Randy told himself.

Slowly, The Viper climbed to his feet and rushed into the bathroom. He slammed the door closed and locked it behind him, fear charging his heart and making it beat one hundred times a minute. His stomach flipped uncomfortably and he violently vomited into the toilet bowl. When he finished, he stumbled to his feet and fell into the bathtub. Rinsing all of the blood and muck off of his body, he reflected on what had transpired over the last few months.

Once he rinsed himself off, he felt a lot better. He slipped into a pair of fresh boxers and some sweat pants, before he walked out of the bathroom calmly, as if he hadn't just vomited bile and rinsed blood from a vicious claiming off of his body. Randy walked out of the bathroom, out of the room, and into the hallway. He needed to put as much distance between himself and Wade as possible. Really, he didn't want to think about what Wade had done to him.

Now that he thought about it, he would have to return to Wade whether he wanted to or not. It was a shame, because Wade constantly abused him and Chris… well, he didn't want to think about Chris. Maybe it was better if he stayed with Wade. At least Wade wanted him. Wade had taken him in when nobody else would, and that saddened him. It made him feel sick, the fact that he was unwanted.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost ran directly into Phil, who was walking down that hallway as well. "I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't mean to run into you."

Phil looked at him with wide eyes. He looked like he was scared out of his mind. "No, it's okay. You don't have to worry about it." Phil looked down and started to fuss with his arm.

"Is that a bruise?" Randy leaned forward a bit and looked at Phil's tattooed arm, with was heavily bruised.

"It is _not_ a bruise." Phil denied, even if it was totally obvious.

Randy narrowed his ice-cold blue eyes at Phil. "Don't lie to me, Phil. Who was it that bought your brand? Don't tell me that it was Daniel Bryan."

Phil looked at him nervously. He seemed to vibrate with nervous tension whenever Randy came a little bit too close. "If you don't want to hear that it was Daniel Bryan, then I won't tell you. How does that sound?"

"I don't want to have to listen to a bunch of bullshit, Phil." Randy scowled at him. Really, one would think that the boy would know better. "Just tell me what happened."

"He hit me, okay?" Phil screamed at him, before he realized that he had been a little loud and looked down at the floor. "He was a bit to overzealous in bed, I freaked out, and he hit me."

Randy just shook his head. He couldn't believe that someone could be so cruel and heartless that they would resort to physical punishment when they wanted to make a point. It made him sick. Without allowing Phil time to question his motives, Randy took Phil by the hand and led him over to the elevator. He forcefully jabbed the down button and waited for a few seconds before the elevator arrived and they entered. He hit the button for the first floor.

Once they finally arrived, he yanked Phil out of the front doors of the hotel and toward the car lot. Phil looked at him like he was crazy. Didn't he realize that he was dressed only in some sweatpants and Phil even less than that? Phil shivered from the cold, but Randy barely even noticed. Randy was on a mission and it would be incredibly difficult to distract him _from_ that mission. Randy tucked him into his car and climbed into the driver's seat.

They pulled out and, within minutes, were down the street and on their way to another hotel nearby. Randy didn't care if Daniel Bryan was Phil's new master or not. That was no excuse to beat on Phil like he was some sort of rag doll. Phil had emotions and he felt pain, even if he didn't express it all of the time. He didn't deserve this kind of abuse. And if Chris still cared about them (which he didn't), then he would have torn Daniel a new one for this.

"Why are we here, Randy?" Phil asked him, once they pulled into the car lot for a nearby hotel. "I don't think that Daniel will be too happy if he knew that I ran off with you."

"I don't want to hear about Daniel Bryan." Randy told him. "I don't want to have to think about Wade, and I don't want you to have to think about Daniel. Just let me take care of you."

Phil watched in wide-eyed shock as Randy slowly started to climb out of the car. Finally, the shock wore off and he scowled in indignation. "Hey! I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself!"

"You know, you never would have said that if Chris was still around." Randy said solemnly.

Immediately, Phil fell silent. He looked at Randy through his lashes. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Now, c'mon. I want to get a room so that I can take a closer look at that bruise." Randy said.

"Okay." Phil nodded.

* * *

Phil leaned over and kissed Randy on the lips. Randy kissed him back, slowly but with a confidence that he hadn't had when he kissed Wade. It felt different to be with Phil. Phil's body was familiar to him and he knew that Phil would never hurt him, just as Phil trusted him to never hurt him. Randy was the first to break the kiss, before he latched onto Phil's neck and bit tenderly. He needed to mark Phil. He needed to remind Phil that he was loved.

"We shouldn't do this." Phil whispered softly. "What if Wade or Daniel finds out that we did this? That little bruise on my shoulder wouldn't nearly be the worst of it."

"Why do we care about them? They don't care about us. Phil, just allow yourself to feel. Don't let someone else define what you feel." Randy told him, before he continued to bite a trail down his chest.

"You won't hurt me?" Phil asked hesitantly. Slowly, he allowed Randy to lower him down onto the bed.

"I would never hurt you. Never." Randy assured him. He allowed his hands to travel down and take hold of Phil's waistband. Slowly, he yanked it down and threw them off to the side. He was naked underneath.

"Just be careful down there, okay? Daniel tore me the other day and I had to back out of one of my matches at a house show." Phil told him, his eyes closed as he flinched when Randy parted his legs.

"Remind me to kill him later." Randy said as he left to look for the lube.

Phil nodded, his eyes still closed. "Will do."

Randy slathered his first three fingers with lube and pressed the first one to Phil's entrance. Phil shivered and tensed and Randy knew immediately that Daniel hadn't prepped Phil before he had abused him. It made him sick to think about it. He slowly, carefully, pumped that finger in and out of the smaller submissive. When Phil started to moan and relax, he pressed another finger inside and started to scissor them.

Phil moaned and started to rut against Randy's fingers. His eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned loudly. It was a wonderful feeling, so different than the abuse that he had endured at the hands of Daniel Bryan. Finally, Randy added the third and final finger. It took a minute for Phil to become adjusted to it, but when he did, Randy leaned down and kissed him softly. While he was distracted, he pulled his fingers out and lined up at his entrance.

"Are you ready for this?" Randy asked him softly. He would stop if Phil needed him too.

Phil nodded. "Yeah. Just fuck me already."

Randy slid into Phil and waited for him to become accustomed to his size. Once he did, Randy started to slam into Phil's body – but not so harshly that it would hurt him. He slammed into Phil's prostate and took hold of Phil's erect cock, stroking it harshly and quickly bringing Phil to completion. Phil moaned as he came, coating both himself and Randy in his essence. Randy wasn't too far behind, and he finished off within him.

Randy rolled off of him and Phil rolled over to curl into his side. "I love you, Randy." He murmured sleepily.

"I love you too, Philly. I love you too." But when he looked over, Phil was already asleep. He smiled down at him and said, "And I'll never let Daniel hurt you again."


	10. Phil is Victorious

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub

* * *

Phil rolled over in the bed and cuddled further into Randy's side. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but sometimes, he loved to feel comforted by someone else. It made him feel safe. "Randy…"

"What is it, Punk?" Randy leaned over and kissed Phil's forehead, before his eyes traveled down to the decently sized shiner on Phil's cheek. "That little bastard… I'll be back in a second with some water and Tylenol, okay?"

Phil nodded tiredly. He could barely force his eyes to remain focused on Randy's blurry form. He couldn't remember the last time that he had slept – it was a product of being too terrified to close his eyes. "Okay."

Randy slid out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, naked as the day he was born. He had thrown his stuff on the floor near the bathroom when they had first entered the hotel room. After a few minutes of searching, he came back with the bottle of Tylenol and a little Dixie cup filled with water. Randy set these on the bedside table as he helped Phil to sit up (it must have been quite a difficult feat in his half-conscious state).

Randy handed over the medication and Phil took it without complaint. While Randy and Phil hadn't _always_ liked each other, there had come to be a mutual trust and even _love_ between them. They trusted each other above all else… well, aside from their former master. And they couldn't even trust him anymore. It seemed as if life as they knew it had crashed down around them and all they were left with was dust and rubble.

"You better now?" Randy asked him. He was obviously concerned for Phil, but the only place where he allowed that concern to show was in his eyes.

Phil studied him for a minute, before he said, "It's 'Are you better now', not 'You better now'." Phil explained matter-of-factly. Randy couldn't help but chuckle. Sleep-deprived or not, he would always be the same old Phil Brooks.

"Sorry, Professor Brooks. How many times should I write that out on the blackboard for you?" Randy joked.

Phil rolled his eyes and smacked him on the arm playfully. "Don't be a smartass."

But then, dejectedly, Randy looked at the clock on the far wall. "We should really head back to the other hotel. I'm sure that they've already started to wonder where we are."

Phil shook his head. "No. I don't want to leave you."

"We don't really have all that much of a choice." Randy said sadly. "Since Chris -,"

"Don't say his name!" Phil exclaimed loudly, much louder than he had intended to anyway.

Randy studied Phil for several minutes. The older superstar had tried to be strong for so long. He could see the lines of exhaustion from around his eyes and it was obvious that he hadn't been to the gym in a few days. Randy knew first-hand how much Phil had loved Chris. It was just like the love of any submissive for their master. The amount of love that it took for someone to submit fully to another person just couldn't be described in words.

And for someone like Phil Brooks, someone as cocky and confident as the Straight-Edge Superstar? Well, that was an entirely new mountain to climb. Being a submissive caused a new world to open up within you. It allowed you to be able to step back and let someone else take care of you, to let someone else save you from yourself. It was hard work, but Phil had done it. And once you had fallen into that routine, it was difficult to break out of it.

Carefully, Randy leaned forward and brushed away the few tears that had leaked out of Phil's eyes and had started to trail down his pale cheeks. He was careful to avoid the dark bruise on Phil's cheek. Phil leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, and soon after, the flow of tears ceased entirely. He even offered the other submissive a shaky smile. Randy returned it and patted his cheek softly.

"Now, it's already six. What do you say that we head down to the hotel gym and work-out for a little while? Then, if you want, we can head out and find goat-face and Wade." Randy told him.

Phil looked at him innocently, but there was a not-so-innocent flicker in his eyes. "And what if I _don't_ want to?"

"Well, then, _if_ that is the case…" Randy's eyes flickered and filled with lust. "Then we can come back upstairs for a little repeat performance."

Phil smirked and immediately revealed his true intentions. "I like the sound of option two."

* * *

Phil had done it. His heart hammered madly in his chest as AJ raised his hand in victory, before his title belt was handed back to him. He had fought tooth-and-nail to defend that title and he had shown _everyone_ in that arena who the 'Best in the World' truly was. And now, Daniel Bryan had to honor their deal. Phil had beaten him, fair and square, with a psychotic referee who had a vendetta with both of them. He had _earned_ his win, damn it!

And, for the first time since he had known him, Daniel _did_ do the honorable thing. He broke off their master/submissive relationship with no ties, before he wandered toward the back to find another victim. Phil was ecstatic. No, that word didn't even _begin_ to describe what he felt. He almost felt like skipping to the back in a post-match celebration, but that would expend too much energy – energy that he didn't actually have.

But what nobody was aware of was that the next match, the match between Show and John Cena, would determine a lot more than if John Laureinitis would be fired or not. Their future safety sat in the hands of one man, John Cena. All of the masters sat back, watching anxiously as the two men went out to the steel cage. Cena had been having a rocky road over the past few months, after all. Could he really pull off the victory with such high stakes?


	11. A Little Bit of Trust

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Threesome, Dom/sub, etc.

* * *

John had done it. The Cenation Leader (with some assistance from a few other stars) had a win over Show, and, in the end, had won the entire WWE's freedom. However, there was much more to it than that. All of the submissives were free. The contract that the Masters had made with John Laureinitis was broken and all of the submissives were free to return to their previous Masters. That was, of course, if they could still stand to be around them.

Chris' entire body thrummed with excitement. He could hardly believe that his babies would return to him, that he could hold them and kiss them and make them feel loved. To be totally honest, he wasn't sure how he had made it this long without them. His entire world revolved around his two boys and it had come crashing down around him when John Laureinitis had told him that he had to hand in their brands or they would be terminated.

Chris didn't even wait to see John Cena apply the AA to John Laureinitis as Vince McMahon officially declared that he was fired. No, he didn't have time for that. Instead, he rushed out of the arena and into the locker room area. He searched every one of the doors for that familiar name, the name that he loved. When he finally was able to locate it, he didn't even hesitate. He knocked on the door and waited for what seemed like forever.

Finally, he heard the door unlock on the other side. A battle-tested Phil stood on the other side, his eyes bleary and the look on his face disoriented. "What the fuck do you want, Chris?"

"I have so much that I need to tell you, Phil. If you'll only let me have a chance to explain, then I swear all of this will make sense." Chris pleaded with him. "Please, Phil. Just hear me out."

"Why should I do that? What have you ever done for me?" And it hurt to think that Phil had forgotten their love so fast.

Chris shook his head. "I've loved you. I have loved you and I always will. I just need you to hear me out."

Phil looked at him with teary eyes. "You didn't show me how much you 'loved' me when you tore me down like that."

Slowly, Chris reached out and took hold of Phil's hand. Remarkably, the raven let him. "There's so much that you don't understand, Philly. There's so much that I still need to tell you."

"Why couldn't you tell me before?" Phil asked sadly.

Chris just frowned. "Can we go inside? I think that this kind of situation is best to have in private."

After a minute, Phil nodded and stepped aside to allow Chris inside of the locker room. Once the blond was inside, Phil shut and locked the door behind him. Both men walked over and sat down across from each other. Phil studied Chris seriously. And, after a minute, he started to explain John Laureinitis' twisted plot to try and break off the relationships between the masters and submissives on the roster.

All of it led up to that one moment, where the entire fate of the WWE rested on John's success at No Way Out. Because he had been victorious, the contract between Phil and Daniel Bryan had been broken. Phil chose that moment to mention that _he_ had made his own deal with Daniel Bryan, which revolved around his _own_ win at No Way Out. He revealed that his connection to Daniel Bryan had been broken earlier that day.

"I'm so sorry that I ever made it seem like I didn't care about you, Phil. I swear that that was never my intention. All I wanted was to be with you, and if I couldn't do that, then I needed to make it a clean break."

"Sometimes, it's a clean break that hurts the worst of them all." Phil told him honestly. "How can I trust you after you did that to me? You left me when I needed you the most."

"I never left you, Philly. I was always there, just in the background. I couldn't be with you because it could have cost you your job." Chris countered.

"I would have rather lost my job than lose you." Phil mumbled.

Chris frowned. He leaned forward and took Phil's hands in his. "Phil, I'm not asking you to be able to forgive me today. I'm not asking for your forgiveness tomorrow. I just want a chance."

"I just… I don't… I don't want to admit it." Phil whispered softly. "But I don't know how to live without you. You're scaring me, Chris. You left me and now, all of a sudden, you want me back? It doesn't make any sense."

"Hey, I never promised you that life would make sense." Chris tried to smile, but Phil shot him a look.

Phil looked down at the title belt that rested on his lap. "Just tell me how I can trust you after what you've done."

"I'm sorry; Phil, but I can't offer a definitive answer. I can't _tell_ you that you need to trust me. Trust doesn't work like that. I know that I will need to earn in back, don't think that I don't. And I also know that I don't deserve it."

Phil smirked a little bit. "That _is_ true. You don't deserve it. At all."

"But I'm willing to fight for however long that I need to in order to earn every last bit of it back." Chris said.

Phil stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of a lie. When he didn't find one, he allowed a small smile to form. "I believe you. If I can believe you, then eventually, I can learn to trust you."

Chris took Phil's hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing it softly. "Thank you so much, baby. You don't realize how much this means to me. I won't hurt you again. I promise."

Phil looked at him skeptically, but eventually he nodded. "Okay. I can…" here, he took a calming breath and closed his eyes. "I can believe you."

Chris rose off of the couch and made to leave the locker room to allow Phil his privacy. After all, he may be Phil's Master, but he had betrayed that trust between them and he fully understood that he needed to build that back up before he could venture into sexual territory. But Phil shook his head. He rose off of the couch as well and walked over to Chris, taking Chris' face and kissing him softly.

When Phil drew back, he looked into Chris' eyes and saw the confusion that rested there. He just cocked his head to the side in an extremely AJ-esque manner and smiled darkly. And then, without further adieu, he opened the door and pushed Chris out into the hallway. Once Chris was outside, he locked the door and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Finally, the full weight of the situation hit him. Could he really forgive Chris?

* * *

Randy followed Wade back into their shared locker room and listened as the British bare-knuckled brawler ranted on about the injury that he had obtained several months before and how he wouldn't be medically cleared to return until later in the summer. He rolled his eyes. To be honest, he couldn't care less about Wade's distorted elbow. It was his own damn fault that he couldn't move out of the way fast enough. He couldn't blame anyone but himself.

However, his interest was piqued when Cody came rushing down the hall, a brilliant smile on his face. He hadn't had that kind of smile on his face since Paul had broken up with him and Ted. Randy looked over to Wade, who was still mid-rant and wouldn't be bothered any time soon. Randy shut the door behind him and walked over to his former protégée. Cody beamed at him, so excited that he couldn't stay still.

"John won!" Cody squeaked. Proudly, he showed off the newly restored brand on his hand. "Ran – you have to hear the entire story. It's all the fault of the bastard GM. Chris didn't want to hurt you."

Randy looked at him uncertainly. "How do you know that? I think that Chris made his intentions rather clear when he told me exactly where I could go. But then, I _did_ tell him he would be rotting there first."

"No, No. You don't understand. Chris was forced into making a deal with John Laureinitis. He made a deal with the devil and sold your brands for your job. He saved your career." Cody said.

Randy still didn't look convinced. "How can you be so sure about all of this? I seem to remember a few days ago when you were down in the dumps about how horrible Paul was and how shitty you felt when he abandoned you."

"It's because I love him and I trust him, Randy. No matter how many times he hurts me, no matter how many times he abandons me… he is my master and that is his right. But he shows me every day that he loves me and that he still wants me, and that's enough for me to love and trust him too. Maybe _you_ should try it for a change."


	12. Reunited

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Threesome, Dom/sub, etc.

* * *

Zack wandered into his hotel room, his brows knitted with tension as he rolled his neck to try and work out all of the cricks. He had had a bad bout at the PPV and had lost. It seemed to only add to the trail of losses that Zack had left behind him over the course of the last three months. Zack frowned. He hated this. And it was only made worse by the fact that, every day, he was forced to watch as Kane and John moved on when he was unable to.

Yes, it had almost been six months now. It had almost been six months since the two men had reclaimed their brands and had left him on his own. But Zack didn't know, didn't _remember_, how to live without his two Masters. His reintegration into society had led to several drawbacks and, in the end, it just wasn't worth it. He would rather be back in their arms and feel safe, but instead, he carried fear around in his heart.

Zack sighed as he took out his keycard and swiped it, immediately gaining entrance into his room. Seconds later, he was hit with the sharp scent of lavender and chamomile, the two scents that most often came with the bath salts that Kane and John would use to run his baths. But that couldn't be right. John and Kane hadn't run him a bath since… well, he couldn't actually remember. It had been awhile.

"Is someone… is someone there?" Zack called out, a little bit afraid. "Hello?" Zack didn't really want to walk in on some kind of robbery or, worse, murder. He had watched too many horror movies with Kane.

"In the bathroom!" The answer came soon after. Zack felt his heart flutter in his chest, because he _knew_ that voice. It was none other than John Cena, one of his former masters.

Zack rushed into the bathroom and felt his eyes widen. "M-Master?" He choked out, almost afraid that if he said the word out loud, both men would vanish.

"Yes. It's really us, Zack. We're here." John told him softly. Tears filled Zack's eyes and, before he could think, he rushed into John's arms. "Shh… it's okay, baby. We're sorry that we had to leave. But…"

"I was so scared. I didn't know what to do without you, but you didn't want me…" Zack trailed off as he sobbed.

John shook his head. "No, baby, no. Don't you _ever_ think that we don't want you. Okay?"

Zack drew back a little bit, confused. "But if you didn't… if you wanted me, then why did you leave me? I don't understand. Why would you hurt me like that?"

John didn't comment. He only shook his head and carefully lifted Zack's shirt over his head. Over the time that he had been with Zack, he had learned that the Ultimate Broski understood better when something was physically demonstrated rather than told to him. It didn't matter how many times John and Kane told Zack how much they loved him. It wouldn't matter and never would if Zack didn't understand. So, they had to make him understand.

Once Zack was out of his shirt, John took off the boy's pants and threw both clothing items over the automatic heating towel rack. He was pleasantly surprised to find that his boy had decided to go commando. Smirking, John took Zack by the hand and lowered him into the bathtub. Immediately, all of the aches and pains all over his body just melted away. He felt absolutely wonderful.

"We never wanted to hurt you, Zack." John told him. "It's a complicated story and I'm not sure that I can explain it so that you'd fully understand. Really, all you need to know is that John Laureinitis was a bastard and he's gone now."

Zack blinked slowly. He must've been hit one too many times in the head, because that sounded like John had said that the tyrannical dictator had been dethroned. "What?"

"I beat Paul and therefore, the GM was fired by Vince. And once he was fired, we were able to go and retrieve these." John held out his hand and, sitting there in his palm, where Zack's two brands.

"We want you to take them back." Kane said lowly.

"No." Zack shook his head.

Both men looked at him oddly. "What's the matter, Zack? You don't want to take us back?" John asked. He sounded hurt, almost betrayed by this notion.

"No. I want you two back. But… I want you to put the brands on for me. Make me feel like I belong to you again."

Both men shared a look, before, with a smile, they did as their submissive had asked. And everything was right again between them…

* * *

Chris made his way back to his hotel room after one last meeting of the Masters. It had been so wonderful to completely demolish John Laureinitis' office and to redistribute the brands to the owners. Chris clutched his brands in his hand, a broad smile on his face as he unlocked the door and rushed inside. All of the lights were out, but he knew that his two babies were there. It was almost like he could sense them.

Chris walked over to the bed, where he found his two babies, curled around each other in bed. Chris smiled. He was thankful that they at least had each other to turn to in this entire mess. Chris walked over to the bed and set the brands on the bedside table. And then, he leaned down and kissed each man on the forehead. Phil mewled, pulling at him unconsciously and trying to get him to fall between them. But Chris wouldn't let him.

Chris was fully aware that he still needed to earn their trust, and he couldn't do that by just jumping into bed with them. No, that would backfire. But he _did_ have an idea of what he _could_ do…


	13. The Make-Up Part One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Threesome, Dom/sub, etc.

* * *

Chris fiddled with the boxes on the table for what had to be the hundredth time. Both boxes had been carefully covered with a beautiful, yellow-as-the-sun paper that shimmered as the light reflected off of the surface. Both boxes also sported an obnoxious dark brown bow. These were the two colors of Chris' mark, and both showed the clear ownership that he had over the two men that would receive the boxes.

It had taken him several days, but finally, it was all ready. Over the last several days, Chris had doted upon his lover's as he should have over the months that they had been separated. He had catered to their every whim, even when he knew that they teased him with the extremes. It was all a test. He knew that every minute, they were scrutinizing him. Every minute, they waited for him to crack and show that he didn't actually care about them.

So, Chris had done all that he could to prove otherwise. In the end, it had left him exhausted, but satisfied. At the end of the week, after a hard match, both submissives had allowed him back into their bed with open arms. Not to make love, no. He still had a ways to go before he earned _that_ kind of trust back. But this was a close second. This kind of trust was so honest, so open, it made his heart hurt. They trusted him to love and protect them.

After he fussed over the boxes for a few more minutes, Chris looked back at the room and made sure that all of the preparations were perfect. No, not even _perfect_ was good enough for his submissives. He needed it to be absolutely fucking _flawless_. Rushing into the kitchen, he took out a washcloth and started to scrub down the counters (and every other surface) for the millionth time in the last five hours. The entire house smelled like Lysol.

When he finished with that, he washed his hands and checked on dinner. A few more minutes and it would be done. Chris stared at the clock. It was only 5:45. Phil and Randy would still be down at the gym for another hour or so. Damn him and his efficiency! Chris looked around the house. There _had_ to be something else for him to clean! He wanted it to be so fucking shiny, when you sat your ass down on the couch, you slid off onto the floor.

In the end, Chris decided to set the table. He took out their best china (it had been a gift from Phil's mother when she had first found out about them, and it had been safely tucked away for only the most special occasions) and set three places at the table. Phil at one end, Randy at the other, and Chris in the middle. It was just like it used to be. Well, minus a few uncomfortable formalities that needed to be revisited. Other than that, it was perfect.

Chris sighed as he looked at the clock. It was only 5:50. He slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands. Damn it, when had he become so impatient! He was the master, he dealt out some of the most grueling punishments, but the one time he got himself into a predicament, he couldn't force himself to wait calmly for an hour? Yeah, that was it in a nutshell. Chris closed his eyes and let his shoulders fall. This would be the longest hour of his life.

* * *

"You sure that you didn't overdo it on the treadmill, Phil?" Randy asked as he watched the smaller submissive stumble out of the car. "You're walking like a tractor-trailer ran over your knees."

Phil narrowed his eyes at the younger man. "Well, excuse me. That's a wonderfully hypocritical comment, considering that you had to be Mr. I-Almost-Had-A-Heart-Attack-Lifting-Weights back there!"

"Hey! I need to get stronger so that I can be more prepared to take on larger opponents!" Randy shot back. "I don't see how running away from them will help solve an issue! No, you have to solve it in the ring."

Phil frowned. He shoved Randy in the chest a little harder than necessary. "Who the fuck said that I plan on running away from my opponent? Cardiovascular health is _much_ more important than strength."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Said the man who ran out on two matches with Mark Henry because the big man was a little 'too much for him to handle'. Please." Randy smirked.

Phil turned around to face him fully now. He took both hands, planted them firmly on Randy's chest, and shoved _hard_. Randy stumbled back and almost fell off the driveway. "You got something you wanna say to me, fuckface?"

"No, no. I do believe that that was _your_ nickname. After all, you were always the one who was so anxious have Chris shove his cock down your throat." Randy shoved him back. Phil fell back onto the car and set the alarm off.

"Oh really? I would be much more ashamed knowing that I melted down into a wanton little whore whenever Chris bit me so hard that he drew blood, because I'm such a masochistic freak!" Phil shot back.

"Because it's so much better to have your pain kink fulfilled with ten million tattoos, huh?" Randy smirked.

Chris wasn't exactly sure which one of his boys had thrown the first punch. All he could remember was being awoken from his stupor by the sound of glass breaking, and, terrified, running outside to find Phil's arm stuck in the car window. Blood stained his beautifully tattooed arm, but Phil couldn't care less. Tearing at his bottom lip with his teeth, he yanked his arm out and lashed it at Randy. Blood splattered all over Randy's shirt as Phil hit the side of his face.

From the look of it, Phil was in much worse shape than Randy was. However, Phil was holding his own, even with an arm that would most likely need stitches. But when Randy took hold of Phil's neck and knocked them both to the asphalt, effectively cutting off all of the air to Phil's brain, Chris saw red. Seriously, how immature could two men be? These two, who claimed to love each other, were about to kill each other for no reason at all.

Chris took hold of Randy's collar and violently yanked him back, but Randy still refused to release Phil. In fact, when he yanked Randy up, Randy brought Phil with him. Reaching between them, he forcibly broke the connection and watched as Phil fell down to the asphalt, violently sucking in air to his burning lungs. Without thinking, Chris lashed out and struck Randy across the face. Randy stumbled back, holding onto his cheek in shock.

Chris reached out to Phil and helped the bloodied man to his feet. "Phil, head to the bathroom. Wait for me there. And don't touch your arm." Chris ordered.

Phil narrowed his eyes at Randy, who was still in shock over being struck like that. "B-But…"

"That wasn't a statement, Phil. That was an _order_. Leave. Now." Chris said darkly. Phil hurried off.

Chris sighed as he turned to face the younger, bigger submissive. He hadn't wanted to strike Randy, in fact it nearly killed him, but if he hadn't lashed out at Randy, it was quite possible that he could have killed Phil. Randy must've realized that as well, because he didn't comment. He only stared at the floor, remorse and a deeply seated hatred in his eyes. Chris knew that that hatred was directed toward him. It made his heart hurt.

Chris took Randy by the hand and led them into the little flower garden just off of the house, which was tended by a family friend. He knew that this would be out of hearing range for Phil if he had decided to crack the window in the bathroom. He motioned for Randy to sit down and he did so without a question. Slowly, methodically, he started to pace back and forth. He didn't even know where to start with this lecture.

"You could have killed him. Do you realize that he almost died there?" Chris started lowly. "What if I hadn't been there? Would he be dead, on the pavement, asphyxiated?"

"Of course I fucking realize that I could have killed him! What do you take me for, some kind of idiot?" Randy shot back. Chris leveled him with 'the look'. "I didn't mean to. He just made me so mad, and he threw the first punch!"

Chris whirled at him before the accusation had even fully left his mouth. "What is my number one rule?"

Randy flinched and looked down at the floor. "Never blame anyone but yourself."

"Exactly. Which leads me to ask the question – why would you do something like that to someone you love?"

Randy leveled him with a stare of his own. "I don't know. Why don't you answer that same question? How could you just leave us behind like we were trash? Do you realize what those bastards did to us?"

"Yes, I do. Believe it or not, I know _exactly_ what they did to you. In graphic detail. And I couldn't stop them. I will regret that forever, Randy. But that doesn't change the fact that you almost _killed_ Phil?"

"And what if one of us had died? Would you even care?" Randy screamed back.

Chris was silent.

"Rule number one: never blame anyone but yourself. You were the one who backed out on us, Chris. You were the one that let those bastards have us. Don't blame them. The only one you can blame is yourself."

"That's not -,"

"Or are you a hypocrite?"

Chris fell silent. Randy had him backed into a corner and his submissive knew it. If he were to cast the blame on John Laureinitis, who should rightfully shoulder the blame for this entire situation, then he would break his most sacred rule. You cannot blame anyone else. Only yourself. And while he could have done more, it… and there it was. He _could_ have done more. He _could_ have done it differently. He had a choice. Maybe he had made the wrong one.

Tears slowly started to roll down his cheeks and he stared down at the ground. He was afraid, so afraid, that this would be the last conversation that he ever had with Randy. He was afraid that this would be the straw that broke the metaphorical camel's back, and that all that he had worked for would be wasted. Collapsing onto the bench across from Randy's, he just let the tears continue to fall.

"Just give me an answer, Chris. Don't I deserve that, after all of this shit?" Randy asked softly.

Chris swallowed hard. "You want an answer? Fine. This, all of this, is _my_ fault. I did everything that I did because I _love_ you, _both_ of you, with all of my heart. The idea that I would have to be without you, or that you two could be separated because of _us_, kills me! That's why I made the deal. I wanted it for you, not for me.

"I had no idea that John Laureinitis would twist it around and sell your brands. But you know what? I can own that. I'll take the entire burden on my shoulders, because _I_ made the decision and it was _my_ fault! When John would tell me what those bastards did to you, I wanted to kill them. But I couldn't, because I couldn't lose you.

"I was so afraid that I had lost the two of you forever. Secretly, I tried to reach out to both of you, but you either turned them away or your new masters' recognized my brand and turned them away for you. I never left you, but if you felt like I did, then I can own that too. Throw all of your burdens at me and see what sticks, Randy.

"I love you both, and the fact that you feel that I've betrayed you and have broken my most sacred rule, it tears at my heart. But if me eating this makes you feel better, then I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes."

Randy blinked slowly, before he looked at Chris in uncertainty. "Did you really mean that?"

Chris nodded and scrubbed at his eyes. "I'm not in the business of telling lies, and I'm not about to start now."

Randy nodded. When Chris stared into his eyes, this time, he saw a different emotion that lingered there. It was a tiny trickle of hope lost in dark, twisting shadows of doubt. Chris wanted him to harvest that hope, to save it from the darkness and to watch as it grew. And then, without further build-up, Chris walked over and kissed his younger submissive. He kissed him with all of the passion he could muster. He kissed him, and he healed him.

* * *

Phil sat on the side of the bathtub nervously. It had been a half hour and neither man had come in to retrieve him. He had actually started to worry that Chris had murdered Randy, not that he would ever voice that fear out loud. But when both men entered the bathroom a few minutes later, he felt a flood of relief wash over him. That, and delirium as more blood continued to pour out of his arm. It was a nasty mess of red and gaping skin.

Chris just shook his head as he retrieved the needed supplies. He came back with a needle, some sterile thread, several cotton swabs, and some antiseptic in hand. Randy just stood in the corner, his head down. Carefully, dutifully, Chris worked to stitch up all of the wounds that Randy had inflicted out in the lot. Once all of the blood was cleaned up, it really didn't look that bad. All that was left was a decent-sized tear in his bicep.

Chris finished off the stitch and cleaned the neat stitches, all in a row, on Phil's arm. "Philly, I do believe that Randy has something that he wants to tell you. What was that, Randal?"

Randy narrowed his eyes at the older man when he used his full name. Chris only smirked. "I wanted to say that… I'm sorry that I put your arm through the car window."

Chris' smirk fell into a frown. "What else, Randal? Or do we need to have a full-out punishment?"

Randy frowned, before he turned away, unable to look Phil in the eye. "I am also sorry that I choked you. I was… wrong and I shouldn't have done that." Randy choked out the last words.

It was Phil's turn to smirk. "What was that? I don't think I heard you."

"I said that I was sorry." Randy repeated nonchalantly.

Phil's smirk broadened. "And?"

"And that I was wrong." Randy tried to slow himself down, but it still came out in a messy jumble.

Phil raised an eyebrow, enjoying teasing the younger man. "What was that? I don't think that I heard you."

Chris shook his head. "Now, Phil. That's enough of teasing for one day. Randy's had a hard day. Give him a little bit of a break." And then, he whispered, "We can make fun of him some more tomorrow."

* * *

The three of them had eaten dinner, with the occasional polite conversation between them. Not much had been said about the incident that had occurred when Phil and Randy had come home. No, that had already been forgotten. Once Chris punished one of his boys for their shortcomings, he forgot about their transgression and moved on. That way, there was always room for new growth after their roots were torn up.

Once dinner and dessert were taken care of, Chris walked over to the little table and dished out the presents. Phil and Randy, always eager to receive gifts from their master (especially after a day with such rollercoaster emotions), took them with delighted faces. Phil opened his first. He pulled out a brand new collar, with looked similar to his brand, but with a few added modifications.

The collar was dark brown, with a yellow stripe down the middle. It seemed to be made of leather, but Phil couldn't exactly be sure. There was a golden clasp on the front, the gold the same color as the yellow stripe, which read 'Phillip Jack Brooks, forever and always, property of Chris Irvine'. Phil smiled and opened the clasp, before he hooked it on his neck and secured it in place. It fit perfectly.

"Thank you, Master." Phil kissed Chris' cheek, before he felt the leather of the choker affectionately.

"You're welcome, my beautiful boy." Chris smiled and ruffled his hair.

Randy opened his box and found the same exact collar in his. This must be their new brand, he reasoned, as he inspected his in comparison to the one that now proudly sat on Phil's neck. His own clasp read 'Randal Orton, forever and always, property of Chris Irvine'. Without really knowing how or why, a smile came to his own face as he put the brand on. Proudly, he stroked the leather.

"Thank you, Master." Randy whispered softly, affectionately.

"You're welcome, my talented Viper." Chris smoothed a hand over Randy's head.

"But, I don't understand, Master." Phil said. "Why do we need new brands, when we already have our rings back?"

"I don't want you to ever have to look at those again. Those are vile, as they have now connected you to two different masters. These collars are clear. You belong to me and only me. No other man or woman can set their hands on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Both submissives answered dutifully.


	14. The Make-Up Part Two

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub, Threesome, etc.

* * *

Another week went by. And then another. And another. It seemed as if time continued to tick by, unnoticed. Randy had failed to pass the wellness test and had been suspended for sixty days. Chris had been fired by Dolph Ziggler, who had retained his Money in the Bank briefcase. And Phil, well, Phil continued to flutter under the radar, unnoticed. Only, he was tired of the shadows that the WWE had cast on him. He _wanted_ to be noticed, damn it!

At the end of the day, this left three exhausted stars. Two submissives, with their master thousands upon thousands of miles away. While they would never admit it out loud, both men could feel the hole in their heart, the hole that only Chris could fill. They needed Chris back in their lives. Both needed to be claimed fully by their one and only master, to feel the marks of their abusers be washed off of their skin once and for all. But Chris wasn't there.

No, Chris was on tour with his band, Fozzy. He wouldn't be back for another month, maybe more. Phil had started to count down the days on their calendar with a thick, black marker. It was as if each day was voided, none of them counted if Chris wasn't there to share it with them. And every time he would walk over to that wall, when he would stare at that calendar, he would see that note scribbled in Chris' immaculate hand. It was their anniversary.

It would be the fifth anniversary of the day when Chris had taken both men as his pets, his precious babies. And Chris wouldn't be there for it. Phil and Randy often talked about how it would be the best time for Chris to reclaim them and that they _wanted_ him to reclaim them. They needed to feel like he wanted them. Even with the new collars around their necks, they couldn't help but doubt their master's affection.

Phil sighed as he drew the fat, felt tip of the marker over the little box that read September 29. Another day down and still no word from Chris. No word whatsoever. He had said he would call, but that had died away after the first few days. It was long-distance and the time difference was so significant, he didn't want to miscalculate and wake Randy or Phil. Or, at least, that was the excuse that he had always used.

Randy noticed the distraught look on his fellow submissives' face, so he walked over to him and wrapped his arms around him. Phil rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. He was extremely tired. This storyline had drained all of the life out of him, and he didn't have much more that he could offer. Randy smiled as he ruffled the exhausted man's dark raven locks. Lifting Phil into his arms, he carried him into their room so he could rest.

* * *

Randy shuddered as he came within Phil, coating his walls with his essence and doing his best to wash away the scars that Daniel Bryan had left behind. He knew that it could never be perfect. No, only Chris could make them perfectly clean. If Chris forgave them, then they could forgive themselves. It was that simple. And then, at the same time, it was complex and intricate and it hurt their hearts every minute that they had to wait for Chris to come home.

Randy rolled over onto his back and Phil rolled over to cuddle into his chest. The bed felt oddly cold without Chris in between them. "Hey, Randy?"

Randy looked at him with half-lidded eyes. After three rounds, he was shocked that Phil was still able to keep his eyes open. "What is it, Philly?"

"I'm really sorry that I called you a wanton whore… a slut… and a masochistic freak." At every brief pause, Randy tried to break in. However, Phil wouldn't let him. "It wasn't right for me to do that."

Randy only nodded. "No, it wasn't. But I can understand where it came from. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard either. Guess it's been awhile since we've tested our boundaries, huh?"

"Yeah." Phil acquiesced. "I don't think I wanna test the boundaries anymore. That gash hurt like a bitch."

"Such a filthy mouth on the little baby." Randy teased. He brushed Phil's hair out from in front of his face.

"I still don't understand why I'm the baby. I'm older than you are."

Randy shrugged. "Sure, but I'm bigger than you are. I think Chris is always afraid that he's gonna hurt you, because you look so damn breakable. That is, of course, until you open that dirty little mouth."

Phil smiled. A true smile. Randy hadn't seen that smile since before this whole mess with John Laureinitis and the brands and all of the other shit that had plagued their lives. Randy shook his head. Their life had certainly been one hell of a rollercoaster. Randy had even considered chickening out, turning around, and finding some safer ride to take. But he had decided on the road less traveled and he was thankful that he did.

If he hadn't, he wouldn't be able to stretch out in bed, look down at Phil, and smile, knowing that he was so in love with the other submissive that he would lay down his life for him in an instant, and knowing that their master was so in love with them that he would do the same. Yes, life may not be perfect. But it was their life and he wouldn't trade it for the world. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. No, it was too overly-romantic. Fluff, as Phil called it.

Randy was broken out of his silent reverie by Phil's sleep-deprived voice. It was heavily laced with exhaustion and when Randy turned to look at him, he could see that his eyes were closed. It took all of the energy that he had to stretch out and point toward the phone on the bedside table. For the first time, Randy heard the obnoxiously loud ring of the telephone. He checked the Caller ID. It was Chris.

He pressed the button for the speakerphone. "Hello?"

_"Hey, Randy. Is Phil around?"_ A small, affirmative noise in the back of his throat. _"You sound really tired, baby. Did I wake you?"_ The worry was clear in his voice.

Randy shook his head, rubbed at his eyes, and tried to force himself to remain attentive. "No, Master. I'm just in bed with Phil. He didn't feel too well, so we decided to turn in early."

_"Oh. What's the matter, Phil? Haven't you been sleeping?" _Silence. _"Phil, we talked about this. You promised me that if the insomnia got worse, you would seek out professional help."_

Phil rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah. If it got worse. Don't worry about me, Master. Randy did the job. I'm fucking _tired_."

_"You make sure that he doesn't fall out of bed, Randy. He has a tendency to do that."_

Randy looked at Phil, one eyebrow raised. "I didn't know that."

Phil only scowled and rolled over so that his back was to Randy. "I don't want to talk about it."

_"Anyway, I called to let the both of you know that I'll be home soon. Maybe in the next few days, but I wouldn't expect me to be back until the end of the week."_

Both men frowned. The end of the week would mean that Chris would miss their anniversary.

_"Is that okay, you two?"_ Chris asked.

Randy cast a look at Phil, who was totally unconscious by now. "Yeah. That's fine…"

* * *

Chris had told a little white lie. Actually, when he had called his two boys, he was outside of the house. The band was off tour for a week for his anniversary and he had been to the store, anxious to be home with his two babies. But first, he had purchased two leashes, which he had ordered to match the collars that he had bought for them almost a month earlier. These where for their anniversary, which would be in… three hours.

Chris walked into the house and found his two boys, who were curled in the bed. He walked over to them and hooked the leashes onto the collars, before he tied the leather of the leashes around the bed posts. Yes, they would have fun tomorrow…


	15. The Make-Up Part Three

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warnings: **Slash, Threesome, Dom/sub, etc.

* * *

Mark was more than a little hesitant to do this. It wasn't that he didn't love Hunter or that he didn't care enough to want him back, no, that wasn't it at all. He just couldn't handle the heartbreak of another distressing talk with Hunter. Over the last few months, he had been forced to keep in contact with Hunter because, like it or not, the blond was still his boss. But Hunter had had Lilly and he had kept her from him, and that was what hurt him most of all.

He knocked on the door and a few seconds later, a deep voice called from inside and told him to come in. Who was he to object? Mark walked inside and took a seat in one of the chairs across from Hunter's desk. And that's when he noticed that, much to his shock, Lilly was there. She knelt on the floor, her blond head in Hunter's lap, and he stroked her soft curls as tears slowly leaked from her eyes. Mark's heart clenched as he witnessed this, but he kept his face a blank mask.

"What do you want, Hunter?" Mark asked lowly. To be totally honest, he didn't want to be here.

"I want to tell you the truth." Hunter said.

Mark raised one dark eyebrow, suddenly interested in this unexpected turn of events. "What do you mean; you want to tell me the _truth_? I was unaware that you had lied to me."

"When I told you that I just couldn't be with you anymore, that I didn't _want_ to be with you anymore, that was a lie, Mark. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner. I just didn't know how to."

Mark's eyes widened, but then they narrowed in disbelief. "Why should I believe any of this?"

So, Hunter told him. He told him about how John Laureinitis had manipulated this entire situation from the very beginning. John had blackmailed Hunter and told him that he would go straight to Vince and tell him that he had wrestled while he was visibly pregnant with Lilly, which could have done permanent damage to Hunter and the child, as well as hurt other wrestlers. It could affect his title reigns, his career as a wrestler, and even his job as a CEO.

Mark reached forward and took Hunter's hands. "Hunt, he obviously doesn't know the entire story. He doesn't understand the financial situation that we were in. If you would have left to have the baby, we wouldn't have been able to support her."

Hunter nodded sadly. "Yes, I know that. But I let him use that against me and in the end, it hurt you. I'm so sorry that I let it get that far."

Mark shook his head. "No. You have no reason to be sorry. You did what you thought was best. I commend you for that."

"You're not mad, then?" Hunter asked. Mark shook his head. "You can forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

* * *

Phil awoke to a dull ache in his shoulders. It wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but it certainly left a lot to be desired. With his eyes still closed, he tried to shift around to make himself more comfortable. Immediately, he received a sharp twinge of denial from his shoulders and the metallic _clink_ of metal on metal filled the air. Now, a tad fearfully, he tried to rotate his wrists. He found that they were immobilized as well and that he could not move his torso at all.

When he finally opened his eyes and turned to look at Randy, he found that the taller brunette was in a similar situation. His caused him more discomfort, obviously, because of his shoulder condition, but they were bound in the same manner. The only difference was that Randy had a blindfold over his eyes. It was ornately decorated with fancy swirls and little cut-outs of lace and silk, but that wasn't what had Phil's attention. The _color_ of the blindfold was their master's color.

"Chris…" the name of his master left his mouth in an almost reverent manner. All the love he felt for him was released in that one word. He couldn't contain it any more.

"You two didn't honestly think that I would miss our anniversary, did you? After all we've been through, that hardly seemed fair." Chris said with the smallest of smiles. He walked over and stroked Phil's hair softly.

Phil looked away, ashamed to admit that _yes_, he had thought that Chris would miss their anniversary. They both had. "You left the WWE to spend more time with your band…"

"…and you were all the way in London. It wasn't exactly logical to think that you'd make it back on time." Randy finished for him. "Or to even think that you remembered us."

Chris' smile fell. "How could I ever forget about the two of you? I handpicked both of you out of all of the others because I saw _something_ in you that I loved. And guess what? It's still there and it always will be."

After a moment of serene silence, Phil bit out sarcastically, "You're such a fluff ball, Master."

"Sometimes I think we could all stand a little bit of fluff in our lives."

Chris slid into the bed, which could easily hold the three of them, and made himself comfortable in the little valley between Phil and Randy's bodies. It felt like it had been forever since he had seen them and he wanted to cherish this moment in case, heaven forbid, someone tried to separate them for good. Carefully, he started to peel the blanket down – it was cold in the room and he didn't want to shock either of them – and off the bed.

Unknowingly, he licked his suddenly dry lips. The cold in the room was almost immediately forgotten as he stared at Phil's naked body. He had cut his hair short for his recent stint as a heel and it looked good on him, Chris decided. But he had always liked it better when Phil's hair was long and he could hook his fingers into it when they made love. The tattoos were as beautiful and vibrant as he remembered. And Chris could tell that he had spent more time in the gym lately.

And then, his eyes flickered over to Randy. Randy's face had hardened over the last few months and he looked several years older than he actually was. Still, he was as handsome as ever. He bore a few new scars from some of his more recent matches and had quite a bit of a chip on his shoulder from his recent bout with Alberto Del Rio, however. Nevertheless, he was still the same Randy that Chris had fallen in love with. His boys had become different, but oddly, even more the same.

"Is there a problem, Master?" Randy was the first one to speak this time. He tried to conceal his worry behind a mask of 'I-don't-care-either-way', but Chris could see the truth. He always had been able to.

"Yes." Chris answered softly.

Both submissives' eyes widened. "Are we not satisfactory, Master? Have we done something to displease you?" This time, it was Phil who asked. Phil was secretly always a little self-conscious when compared to Randy in bed.

"Oh, no. No, no. That's not the issue at all. The issue is merely who should I take first?" Chris said with a smirk. "Should it be Philly?" Chris teased Phil's budding erection. "Or should it be Randy?" The Viper shot a steamy glance at Phil.

"It should be Phil. He needs the reassurance more than I do." Randy answered immediately.

Chris raised one blond eyebrow, a bit shocked by Randy's declaration. "Are you sure, Randy?"

"Positive." He nodded numbly. Both men needed this reassurance, but Phil needed it more.

"Okay, then." Chris climbed onto his knees and unlocked Randy's collar and leash from the headboard, and then unlocked the handcuffs that bound his wrists. "I want you to suck him off, Ran, nice and slow."

Randy hesitated for a brief moment, before he nodded more firmly this time. "Yes, Master." Stretching out on what was left of the bed, his head sank forward and his mouth engulfed Phil's still somewhat flaccid cock.

Phil moaned and immediately bucked his hips, as if it were a reflex. But Chris was faster. He leaned forward and held them down so that he wouldn't accidentally choke Randy. He shot Phil a hard, warning look, and in Phil's euphoria all he could manage was a nod. Slowly, as if waiting for Phil to disobey the silent order, Chris released him. Phil didn't buck his hips again, but Chris could see the strain on his arms as he pressed them tighter into the handcuffs. It was beautiful.

Chris slid over to Phil and situated himself between Phil's muscular thighs. He slid the bottle of lube out of his back pocket and drizzled the warm, thick liquid over his fingers. Phil's eyes were closed, so he couldn't see it, but they shot open when Chris pressed two fingers into his entrance and slowly started to scissor them. Randy must've taken him recently, because he was well-stretched and still slick. Chris smirked, loving the sound of handcuffs on metal and mouths on hot flesh.

Phil moaned, his hands turning red and then white and then an awful shade of purple as he lost all feeling in them. Chris started to fuck him harder. When he was reasonably stretched, Chris slid another finger into his entrance. It was just then that his middle finger brushed that overly sensitive bundle of nerves and Phil saw stars. Unable to form coherent words, he came into Randy's mouth. Randy's eyes slid closed and he swallowed all that Phil had to offer.

Once he decided that Phil was sufficiently stretched, he unscrewed the lid on the bottle of lube and drizzled some over his aching erection. He smoothed it in, making sure that he was at full hardness, before he hooked an arm under both of Phil's legs and slid home. This time, Phil couldn't help but thrust his hips into the air, further impaling himself on Chris' cock. Chris couldn't even chastise him for it. It felt too damn wonderful.

"How does that feel, Philly? Did you miss this?" Phil mumbled incoherently and Chris couldn't understand a word that he said. "You wanna suck Randy off? Show him how thankful you are that he got you off?"

Phil was about to answer when Chris started to move. Slowly, he removed his cock from Phil until only the head remained, and then slammed back in so that the head jabbed at his prostate. "_Fuck_!"

Chris smirked. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Randy?"

"Yes, Master?" Randy turned to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Let Philly suck you off. Fuck his face, baby. Own him."

Randy didn't even hesitate. He climbed onto Phil's chest and his cock brushed against Phil's mouth. Straining against his binds, Phil took Randy into his mouth and hummed, feeling the thick organ start to throb in his mouth. Randy was close, so close. Without so much as a warning, he shoved himself all the way into Phil's throat. He relaxed himself and took him all the way in. That was, of course, until Chris started to abuse his prostate like rapid-fire.

Bombarded by conflicting sensations of pleasure, Chris started to fuck Phil harder. His entire body lurched as he was thrust forward into the headboard. Phil screamed, the vibrations shooting up Randy's cock and causing him to finish in Phil's mouth. Phil choked a bit, not as used to swallowing cum as Randy was, but managed to keep it all down. Seconds later, he came as well, his scream swallowed in Randy's mouth. He could still taste his essence on Randy's lips.

Chris hadn't finished, but he hadn't intended to. He still had to reclaim Randy, after all. Carefully, he reached forward and untied Phil from the headboard. "Randy, lay down on your back."

Randy looked confused. "What?"

"Lay down on your back." He tossed the bottle of lube at his chest. "Slick yourself up. Philly's gonna ride you while I fuck you." Quickly, Randy lay down on his back and slicked himself up.

"You think you can handle a little more torture, Philly?" Only the pleasant kind of torture, though. He would never dream of hurting his babies. Especially not after all they had been through.

Phil smirked. "Yeah. I think so."

"You ready, Randy?"

Randy nodded stiffly, already hard for the second time. "Yeah."

Chris spread Phil's legs and helped him to seat himself on Randy's heated erection. Phil hissed, feeling himself stretch in that perfectly painful way. He leaned forward and braced his hands on Randy's chest, rising and falling and brutally fucking himself on Randy's cock. Chris watched for a minute, loving the way that his pets serviced each other. He had missed this terribly and he swore that he would never leave them again.

Not wanting to waste another minute, he spread Randy's legs and shoved himself in all the way to the hilt, knowing that Randy loved it that way. His momentum caused Randy to buck his hips into Phil. Phil threw his head back and he rested his sweaty body against Chris' torso. After that, it was a frenzy of movement. It was impossible to tell where one body ended and another one started. Randy was in sensory overload and Phil was not far behind.

Cherishing every little noise that fell from his babies' mouths, he continued to fuck Randy into oblivion. And when he whispered a not-so-subtle command into Phil's ear, Phil clenched down around Randy. Randy bucked up and emptied himself into Phil's hot body, filling him to the brim with his essence. This was followed shortly thereafter by Phil's orgasm. Watching and listening to their respective orgasms was too much for Chris, whose thrusts halted as he came in Randy.

Carefully, he pulled out of Randy and lifted Phil off of him. He lay between the two of them and curled Phil into his arms. "Thank you, Master." The two submissives said in unison.

"You're welcome, babies." Chris said. He leaned over and kissed both of their foreheads. "This is exactly what the two of you deserve. I'm sorry that it took so long to put it into action."

"It's okay, Master." Phil mumbled softly. He was exhausted from his three orgasms and almost unconscious. "We love you, Master. Next time, please tell us if something like this happens again. We want to know."

Chris nodded. "Don't worry. I don't intend to make the mistake of leaving you two in the dark again. You two are my world and I don't know what I would do without you. I love you too. Happy anniversary."

Just before they fell asleep, the two submissives replied, "Happy anniversary."


End file.
